DA The McDowell Books: Seven: Prodigal
by 00Tyler00
Summary: Alec sets off on a mission for the ITU… and gets the shock of his life when Brac shows up in the middle of it all. But has Brac followed Alec in the hopes of aiding in his father’s quest, or has he become embroiled in something far more sinister...?


_Alright everyone, here we go with the seventh installment of the McDowell series. Only one more left to wrap things up and I'm calling it quits. It was very satisfying writing these fics and I have to say I've enjoyed the suspense of it all immensely! **A little author's note/warning**: this chapter is not only **longer **(as in, 26,124 words) but definitely **darker **and intensely more **angst-ridden** then most if not all of the others! Things do get much worse before they get better (but they **do **get better, I assure you) and you'll find a **whole lot of nasties** packed into the next two books. I know that won't deter some of you, but anyway ... consider yourselves warned. -- Tyler_

**The McDowell Books**

**By Tyler**

**Disclaimer:** DA and all its characters are the property of James Cameroon. The infant characters of Brac and Nyx were created in a fic by Valjean.

**Basic Outline:** Set fourteen years after Freak Nation. Max and Alec have been partners for thirteen years, still living in a largely-functional and swelling Terminal City. The Familiars are no longer at large although they still hunt transgenics with a passion. The world view on transgenics is now officially tolerant, although a great deal of the ex-Manticore creations still choose to reside in TC to live their lives free of discrimination. Max and Alec are largely still the heads of operation at TC, and balance their work lives with the raising of their two children, Brac (13) and Nyx (11).

**Book Four in the McDowell Series:** Alec sets off on a mission for the International Transgenic Union… and gets the shock of his life when his son shows up in the middle of it all. But has Brac followed Alec in the hopes of aiding in his father's quest, or has he become embroiled in something of a more sinister nature? Rated R for language and adult content.

**Prodigal**

"Okay, you know what, Brac? I'm not havin' this conversation with you again, so why don't you save your breath - alright, dude?"

Alec ran his hands through his newly-cut hair and pursed his lips skeptically at the visage which screamed out at him from the mirror. He didn't think it suited him, but that was hardly a valid argument against the decision made by the members of the ITU that if Alec was going to head up this particularly sensitive mission, the X5 would need a make-over of one sort or another.

Alec had been callously offered a choice of two options – either he had to cut his hair (just when the damn crew was starting to grow out) and sport some stubble, or wear a false mustache.

He had gone with option one. The moustache had looked way too much like something out of Hitler's prop box.

"No it's _not_ alright! Okay, Dad? You have yet to give me _one_ good reason _why not_!" Brac's indignant demanding was seriously beginning to grate on Alec's nerves.

Things had been going sideways for the McDowell clan over the last three weeks – both as members of a transgenic nation undergoing fresh growing pains, and as a family. New work pressures had put a doubled amount of strain on Max and Alec's shoulders, and they had found themselves buckling under the pressure, much to their dismay.

Try as they might to keep up with the mounting demands on their time, energy and resources from all camps, the two X5s found themselves battling bouts of mental, emotional and physical stress that were relatively foreign to the pair.

They coped in different ways. Max became short-tempered, moody and aggressive (Alec's left shoulder was taking _way_ too many slugs…plus Max had tried to pick a fight with him on more then one occasion…then attacked him anyway when Alec had just laughed and told her to swing away).

Alec remained his smart-ass self with a new twist of cockiness. He laughed or shrugged almost everything off, was seldom seen without a beer in his hand and stayed out late at the pool hall from which he had threatened to ban Mole if the nomalie didn't stop 'talking work after hours'.

The escalating tension pervading the McDowell family had finally culminated the previous week when Max had happened across a half-empty packet of cigarettes in Nyx's drawer. When confronted with the evidence, Nyx (who knew better then to lie to her parents when on such very thin ice) had pulled a full-blown drama show, complete with tears, screaming and suicide threats.

Max had worsened the crisis by allowing Nyx's display to chime her own melodramatic clocks and matched her daughter's level of intensity, turning what should have been a one-sided blow-up into an official screaming match.

Alec had somehow managed to remain his usual unruffled self. What had eventually set the calm, cocky X5's nerves alight, however, was when Nyx had attempted to shift the limelight onto her brother by 'letting out the secret' (which she had, according to her, kept tucked away on threat of severe pain) that Brac had recommenced his cocaine sniffing.

Alec hadn't been sure what had made him more upset – Nyx's accusation or the manner in which she had thrown it out. But upset he most certainly had become and the hiding Nyx had narrowly escaped at the onset of her smoking habit had been duly administered – calmly, methodically, without any yelling or lecturing…almost as though Alec was doing it in his sleep.

The indifferent glaze which settled over her mate after the incident had Max dropping her own worries in a flash and fussing over Alec. To her frustration, she got absolutely nowhere. Her mate had retreated into a shell of apathetic sarcasm which not even Max could penetrate.

As for Brac's alleged drug abuse, the kid had seethed and categorically denied the accusation, reminding Alec in scathing terms of the promise he had been 'forced into making' and that as far as Brac was concerned, it still stood. He'd ended his tirade with a coolly-worded challenge that his parents 'either prove it shut their faces'.

The event had torn a rift in the McDowell unit which had so far been growing with worrying steadiness.

"Because I said so, that's why not!" Alec stated in a bored tone of voice, turning to eye his son with a casual raise his eyebrows, "Since you're not accepting my explanations, you can accept my orders. You can't come, it's just that freaking simple, Brac, alright?"

Brac's eyes narrowed into angry slits as he pointed an index finger at his father, "You _promised_ me – you said that next time I could go…"

"I _said_ you could come with me to the next union assembly we had, and I _never_ use the word 'promise', Brac – you know me better then that!" Alec placed a foot on the edge of his bed and proceeded to lace his boots up.

"Ugh!" Brac's head rolled up in frustration and he stomped his foot against the floor for emphasis, "I fucking hate you, you know that? You're such a lying dick!"

It wasn't the first time his son had barked the baleful, virulent words at Alec – but they still managed to pierce him every single time.

Like hell he was going to let on to that, though. Alec knew Brac had most likely only said it to rile him up, to get some sort of reaction that wasn't indifferent. Hell, even Alec losing it and slapping Brac in the kisser for mouthing off would probably have been alright with his son right about then.

But Alec – who was secretly in the throes of his own version of sulking over the fact he'd ever agreed to one of the only hard-and-fast McDowell laws (which was that the only offense ever _certain_ to merit Brac or Nyx a thrashing was if they put themselves or their family into harm's way) – was way too busy wallowing to afford Brac any of his 'twisted desires' just then.

"Huh, what?" Alec realized Brac was still waiting for response and glanced up at his son with a snide smile, "Oh sorry, you uh you say somethin', kid?"

"You're walkin' into a trap, _alone_, without _any_ back-up whatsoever! Don't try to tell me I wouldn't be useful!" Brac remained as stubborn as ever.

"Ah suit yourself." Alec shrugged on his jacket, "Live in denial, Brackie – be my guest. Just uh two things though," He flashed a strained grin his boy's way as he held up a pair of fingers and counted on them with another, "One – don't even _attempt_ to act as though you understand what my mission is gonna entail, and two - don't _insult_ me by suggestin' I would take my punk-ass _kid_ as a partner when I already refused quality X5 back-up…"

"Why?" Brac yelled furiously.

Alec remained unfazed by the scream, though he was beginning to feel signs of a temper welling up. Instead he shrugged with a cocky smirk, "Cuz there ain't room for _two_ transgenic charmers in Seattle's strip joints."

Brac's nostrils flared wide with anger as he turned and stormed past Alec, slamming his shoulder against the taller X5's as he went.

Alec's wry grin widened dangerously as Brac shoved past him, and he leant backwards with the slam, avoiding the impact and causing Brac to stumble slightly as the adolescent was thrown off-balance.

Brac caught himself and inhaled deeply, pausing and turning to glare at Alec, who shrugged and then winked before he shut the bedroom door on his son. Alec pursed his lips and placed his hands on the desk in front of him, looking up at his reflection in the mirror before he kicked out at an open drawer, sending it shut with a slam.

"And I want you to call me twice a day to check in."

Alec rolled his eyes and tried not to smile. Max had been spouting off a list of dos-and-don't's for almost a full five minutes.

"I charged your cell phone and double-checked your battery power so it should last you a full ten days." Max's hands were flying as she shoved a myriad of last-minute 'essentials' into her mate's shoulder bag, eyes glued to the counter. "And don't forget that the transmitter Mole gave you isn't waterproof, so don't go wearing it in the shower like you do with your other watches, you got that?"

Alec grinned and glanced around awkwardly, "Max, you're my mate, not my mother." He raised his eyebrows and pasted on a confident, reassuring smirk, "I got this one covered, Maxie, alright?"

She sighed as her hands ground to a standstill, "Alec, it's a long shot at best, and I still don't see why…"

"Come on, Maxie, you _know_ why it had to be me! You and I are the only ones who've know Seattle's underground network and still got favors we can call in, to boot!"

"Exactly, Alec! I could just as easily pull this one off!" Max responded, turning to face Alec and gazing into his hazel eyes with her own chocolate orbs – eyes that were fraught with concern and carefully-repressed resentment.

"No," Alec shook his head, "We talked about this, Max – you're a heck of a lot better at holdin' the fort here at TC then I am, and besides," He shrugged with a grin, "it's been way too long since I got a chance at kickin' some ass!"

Max raised an eyebrow, "May I remind you that I was cruising Seattle's bad-ass backstreets for a helluva lot longer then you were, Golden Boy?"

"Yeah but Max, come on. I mean, outta the two of us, you gotta admit that I am just that little bit sexier." Alec's smug smile was unceremoniously wiped off of his face by a smart cuff to the head from his seething mate.

"Ah, okay so maybe I deserved that…"

"Ya think?" Max scowled and leant one palm on the counter and other against the crescent arc of her hip, "Alec, quite kidding around, alright? You runnin' off to play good cop bad cop alongside Seattle's dodgy law enforcement is giving me the willies as it is!"

Alec pursed his lips and lowered his eyes which glistened with green under his long eyelashes. He knew full well how badly Max had wanted this assignment – getting the dirty scoop on a string of disappearances associated with a group of psychos rumored to hopping derelict houses.

Eye-witness accounts had described the unlawful tenants as sporting barcode tattoos on their necks – which was why the Seattle Squatters, as the pack had been dubbed, had now officially become the ITU's problem…and why Max had been keen to play the role of ITU representative and put a stop to the murders before they ended up getting the rest of their kind into even deeper shit then they were already in.

As ready and willing as Alec was and had always been to oblige the woman of his dreams her every desire, there were just always going to be one or two things he wasn't going to budge on.

Like this job, for example. Alec and Max had debated which of the pair was more eligible for the task until they were blue in the face – both of them stubbornly earnest to personally fulfill what were their two priorities in life – protecting their family, and ensuring the continued prosperity of the transgenic race.

Finally, Alec had played his last card – a threat that if Max went, he was going with her. He had felt cruel of course, using his mate's maternal fears as a means of control. But the result had been worth it; Max would remain in TC and keep a handle on the situation…and their children. Alec would venture into black space alone.

"Well quit worryin' about it then." Alec reached out and took hold of the end of Max's fingers lightly, gently – reassuringly, he hoped. "It's a simple intel-gathering job, Max – I did a crap-load of'em for Manticore back in the day. No big deal. You twist some arms, choke out a few leads and before you know it, you're set!"

Max looked down and didn't respond. But she did smile in resignation.

"Hey," Alec squeezed her hand and returned the smile, "I'll be fine. _We'll_ be fine. This is gonna make everything okay, I promise."

Max stiffened, retracting her hand and looking her mate square in the eye, "Don't promise, Alec."

"Why not?" He queried, confused.

"Because you never do that," Max held his gaze searchingly, "and it's worked for us so far."

Alec couldn't argue with that. So he opted for cupping Max's face in his hands and indulging in a deep, passionate kiss – the sort that said 'until later then' as opposed to 'goodbye'.

Max was smiling again as he slung his bag over his shoulder and headed for the door.

"Did you say bye to Brac?" She queried, and Alec shook his head emphatically.

"And I'm not going to either, or else our fists are gonna end up doin' all the talking." He shrugged despondently at the quizzical expression on her face, "I dunno, Maxie – what am I supposed to do? I can't get through to him anymore."

The words slugged Max in the gut, and Alec read it all over her features. He knew that his mate relied as heavily on Alec to deal with Brac's issues as he did on Max to sort things out with Nyx.

But what could he say? Alec wasn't going to lie to Max; as much as it broke his heart to say it …X5- 494 barely knew his son anymore.

"Dad!" Nyx came into the kitchen with a look of righteous indignation pasted on her features, "Like hell you weren't thinkin' of leaving before I got my goodbye kiss!"

Mac saw Alec stiffen the moment his daughter entered the room and shift his eyes around uncomfortably. Alec had avoided Nyxie like the plague since he'd hided her and seemed almost as discomfited around her as he had around Logan during their hostile years.

Max raised her eyebrows in surprise as Nyx strode purposefully up to Alec and then barreled into him, wrapping her arms tightly around his torso and squeezing affectionately.

Alec was evidently taken aback by the move and after a second he gingerly placed his arms around his daughter with an ill-at-ease expression that completed his regression into the twenty year-old, un-fazeable asshole of his pre-TC years.

"Love you, Daddy." Nyx stated in a strong voice, evidently noticing but choosing to ignore the stiff awkwardness of the embrace.

"Love you too, kiddo." Alec dipped his neck and planted a dutiful kiss on Nyx's head, "Take care o' your mom while I'm gone, alright?"

"Always!" Nyx rested her chin on Alec's chest and gazed up into his face, her tone sounding almost insulted at the insinuation that she would do otherwise. "But uh…" She scrunched up her nose disdainfully, "You're not gonna ask me to watch out for Brac, are you? Cuz that would be condemning either me or him or possibly both of us to an untimely and violent death!"

"Nyx, come on." Max chided, noting the poignant haze that had flickered over her mate's face at the all-too-true statement from his daughter, "Give your brother a break, alright?"

Nyx shrugged as she untangled herself from Alec, her face hardening in a manner which didn't at all match the soft vibrancy that was Nyx McDowell.

"Whatever. Soon as he gives me one." Nyx had clearly not forgiven Brac for something or the other, and patted Alec stiffly on the shoulder in a manner all too similar to her brother's, "Keep it real, Dad. I'll catch you later."

With that and a shift of her head to avoid the diametrically opposite expressions which had become permanently fixed to both her parent's features over recent months, Nyx exited the kitchen and ignored the blare of Brac's death metal shuddering the hallway as she shut her bedroom door behind her.

He wondered about how, when and why it had all happened…and came up blank. Alec didn't like that at all. He never let things creep up on him – it was an old soldierly habit that died hard.

Nevertheless, Alec pondered morosely as he eyed the dismal road stretching out before him, somehow, someway, his little buddy Brac - the son he had never known how much he'd wanted until the kid had come into his life – had morphed and then disappeared almost entirely, and almost too fast for his father to see it coming. And whatever juvenile bug he was carrying, it was contagious and Nyx was beginning to manifest the symptoms.

Brac had always had a healthy does of attitude –hell, how could he not with parents like Alec and Max?

Maybe it was all just down to hormones…maybe his freak DNA was just playing up his otherwise normal adolescent emotional turbulence.

Maybe – but that didn't explain the dark bile that Alec was beginning (with increasing alarm) to catch glimpses of more frequently burning in Brac's eyes and riding the edge of his voice. And the Blue Lady figurine the kid had all but attached to his fucking hip? What the fuck was up with that?

Alec shook his head and steeled his thoughts to concentrate on the present task at hand. He rolled down his window as the over-water bridge on which he had been requested to meet with the police heading up the investigation shimmied into view. They were already there, Alec noted – a group of four, conspicuous-looking agents with their hands tucked in the pockets of their jackets and their squad cars sitting silent (for once) a short ways off.

_Great_.

They'd given him the four biggest jerk-offs of the force. Alec had worked with Seattle's investigation team several times before, and the X5 had mentally selected a number of officers (a very small number) who he deemed worthy of his time…let alone his respect.

Not one of the four men he was now being forced to do business with fell into that category. Oh well. Alec would have to deal with it – that was what he did best.

"X5 – 494?" The drawled query came from one of heavier-set officers who was eyeing Alec suspiciously as the drop-dead gorgeous transgenic slammed his car door shut and ambled casually towards the group.

And they were rookies to boot. Anybody on the Seattle squad who had worked with Alec in the past would be fully aware that calling him by his Manticore designation was a sure means of pissing him off.

Alec narrowed his eyes sharply and reached into his jacket. "ITU agent McDowell." He flashed his ID petulantly at the officer, who cracked a toothy grin.

"So here stands the infamous Smart-Alec McDowell!" He laughed and rested his hands on his hips, "I heard a lot about you, son, and trust me – it ain't half as pretty as that face o' yours."

Alec graced the portly officer with a mordant smile which would have made Max, had she been there, leap in-between the two to intercept the verbal spat that would have ensued. Max, however, was not there.

"Yeah well I'm a real looker." Alec sniffed, "Look I've come a heck of a long way, Officer, and frankly I'd appreciate it if you would hand over my mission briefing so I can get the fuck outta here and do my job."

"If you'd been doin' your job in first place, boy, this damn trannie problem wouldn't have shown its face!" The man huffed sardonically, and Alec's eyebrows furrowed deeper, his fist balling up instinctively as he fought to restrain the urge to pitch the mouthy fool over the edge of the bridge and have done with it.

Later...after he'd sorted this all out.

With that comforting thought soothing his ruffled nerves, Alec somehow found the grace to press ahead with the issue at hand.

"Officer, I'm affordin' you the courtesy of assuming you have no idea just how difficult it is to keep track of an entire race of genetically-empowered individuals…"

"Oh I got some idea, kid – believe me, I look after _real_ bonafide Americans." The man sneered, "See from all I hear, you and your…how was it put to me…_mate_…got a real sweet mommy and daddy thing goin' on in that biohazard city o' yours with all your hundreds of genetically-empowered babies runnin' around."

Alec's eyes began to glint dangerously. The officer, oblivious, continued.

"And ya know what, son, that's real sweet, as I said before. But when you make the babies, you gotta _take_ the babies – and you gotta keep'em the fuck outta our hair, you got that? Or isn't that your job?" He leered, leaning closer to Alec, "X5 – 494?"

Alec blinked slowly and clenched his jaw so hard he was sure his teeth would crack. "You got it all wrong, officer." He spoke with a farcical grin, "See this is more like Big Brother havin' to come in and do Daddy and Mommy's work _for_ them."

"Now how'd ya figure that, son?" The officer queried snidely.

"Transgenics weren't the ones who started Manticore." Alec stated flatly, and then turned away before the befuddled officer had a chance to retort. "Is there anyone here with enough fucking brain cells to give me my mission briefing?"

The other officers exchanged dubious expressions before one of them reached into his jacket and pulled out a brown paper folder. Alec snatched it up and then nodded curtly at the men.

"I'll be in touch. Till then I want any stake-out teams prowling out leads to back the fuck off."

"Why the hell would you want that?" barked out one of the younger officers.

Alec narrowed his eyes and smiled, "I need my space."

"Hey, you gettin' hungry?"

His mother's casual call from the entrance to his room received little acknowledgement from Brac. His eyes remained coldly focused on the front lot outside their apartment – and Alec's Ninja.

"No." Brac finally responded quietly, and Max raised her eyebrows in concern as she moved to stand behind her son.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You're not _acting_ fine." Max crossed her arms, anxiety spilling over her voice and features, "You only lose your appetite when you're sick or you're pissed off, so which is it, Brac?"

He sighed in frustration and turned to face her, his face and eyes hard with a dark anger threatening to spill at any moment. Max felt a chill course down the base of her spine. Normally those eyes were Brac's…some days they were Alec's.

For about a week, though, they had been Ben's.

"Look, I said I'm fine, alright? Why can't you people just get off my fucking back!" Brac stormed past her, but Max shoved him back a few feet. He glared at her.

"You're gonna regret that."

"I doubt that." Max said sharply, before her eyes softened with distress, "Brac, you have to let me help you…"

"I don't have to _let_ you do _anything_! It's not like you or Dad ever return the goddamned favor!" Brac yelled, and Max winced at the steel in his voice.

"Are you punishing me because Alec didn't take you on his mission? Is that what this is about, Brac?"

"Oh of course it is – it's _always_ about _Alec_, what _he_ wants, what _he_ decides, what works for _him_!" Brac was trembling with rage, and Max felt his words with a jolt.

Brac had never called Alec anything but 'Dad'…well, when he had been younger it was 'Daddy'…and there had been that one time he had called him _494_ (which had _never_ happened again). But it had never been _Alec_.

"Listen, there are a whole load of things you could lay at your dad's door that I would probably agree with you on – but callin' him selfish is one I wont!" Max insisted, "He's bending over backwards to keep our family safe while sorting out the rest of the world's problems on the side, and I'm not gonna stand here and listen to you bust my chops because you got a little tongue-lashing this morning!"

"Oh you won't have to!" Brac's tone had a mocking ring to it as he moved forward once more, "I'll get the fuck outta your hair." He stormed towards the door, but another shove from Max sent him back. He saw red this time, grabbing her wrist and twisting it down and behind her back.

"Don't ever shove me again…"

Max struggled in his lock and then moved her head up sharply, head-butting Brac with just the amount of force it took to throw him off and twist out of his grasp.

Brac stumbled back and clutched at his bleeding nose with a gleam of fury in his green eyes, "Bitch!"

"Call me that again and I swear you'll get the same treatment your dad got when he tried it!" Max was cloaking her devastation at the fact her son – who had adored her since birth – had just attacked her with her tried and proven tough-girl act.

"Just because Alec kissed your ass in sparring doesn't mean I'm gonna do the same!" Brac yelled and then leapt viciously into Max and sent them both crashing to the floor.

The tousle that ensued would normally have ended with Max helping her son up and asking him if he was alright after she had pinned him for a while and talked some sense into the kid. But as soon as they had landed, Max's head had snapped against the wall hard enough to send stars spinning in her eyes. Her brain swam and her senses abandoned her long enough for Max to be unaware of Brac's hands on her throat, crushing her windpipe with such deadly force that Max was unable to regain her composure.

She choked and gasped for air, clutching at the strong hands suffocating her throat with tears in her eyes. They didn't budge. Max felt her eyes roll up into her head and her conscious began to drift away. Just as she was about to succumb to the blackness creeping over her, the steel crunching at her throat released its hold.

Half-paralyzed from a lack of oxygen, Max could only cry as she watched Brac stand up and run out of the room, slamming the door behind him as he left.

Alec pursed his lips as he entered the dingy diner. It had been seven years since he'd been to this place, and it still smelt like greasy fry-ups, instant coffee and sweat. Alec glanced around and frowned as a chubby brunette lumbered clumsily past him with a cluttered tray of leftovers.

The staff had certainly downgraded, if nothing else had changed. It didn't look like Stacy and Ashley, the delicious Texan twins, were working here anymore. So much for the perks…

Alec scratched at the back of his neck as his eyes scoured the diner for any signs of his prey. Suddenly a feral smile creased the corners of Alec's mouth. There he was, slouched over a half-eaten plate of sunny-side-ups and mashed potatoes.

Carlton West was exactly were Alec had left him seven years ago. Heck, he was even wearing the same beat-up moccasins.

"Can I get the bill?" The thirty-something, hulking, sullen man called out grouchily as he drained the last of his coffee and glared at the waitress.

"Come on, Carlie, you haven't even ordered your customary pecan muffin yet."

The voice which rang with the same derisive tone as it had seven years earlier made Carlton's head shoot up to stare at the man who had sidled onto the seat beside him.

"Long time, 494." If Carlton was edgy, he sure wasn't showing it. He steered his gaze away from Alec as he scraped up one last forkful of the greasy food on his plate.

"Don't ever fucking call me that, Carlton, or I'll break your neck right here." Alec stated matter-of-factly in a low tone of voice as he leant in.

"You promised me you'd do that last time we ran into each other." Carlton mused as he finished chewing, "What the hell's taken you so long, _Alec_?"

Alec shrugged mockingly, "Uh I was gonna do it, but after I took a good long assessment of what I was releasing you from, I decided it would be crueler just to let you live."

Carlton scoffed, "Bite me."

"I might." Alec responded, "You never know, West – my animalistic tendencies might just suddenly flare me up with rabies and I could end up…" he flailed a hand, "tearin' out your trachea with my teeth."

"What the hell do you want from me, McDowell?" Carlton snapped, more annoyed then anything else, "I mean, you just up and walk for thirteen years straight and leave me without a provider…"

"I was never your provider." Alec reminded him importantly.

"No, you were _the_ provider, and the best damn one this side of America!" Carlton jabbed a finger at the X5, "You threw away the chance of a lifetime to go and breed more trannies with Guevara, and left me and the rest of us smugglers in the hole! So before you even think about asking me for information on your latest resultant problem, first make the trip to hell and ask the Devil!"

Alec raised his eyebrows with a grin, "Now that hurt, man – no seriously, you've got me tearin' up here." He sniffed and wiped at his eyes, and Carlton rolled his own.

"Just fuck off out of here, _Alec_ – before…"

"Before another one of your sisters goes missing and you blow the rest of what you've saved up on yet another fruitless investigation?" Alec's tone went sober all of a sudden.

Carlton went silent and studied the counter in front of him. "What are you talkin' about?" He muttered quietly.

"Come on, West – the Seattle Squatters nicked your sister Katie and she's been missin' for two weeks." Alec glanced up as Carlton's eyes met his own. "Don't think I haven't done my homework."

Carlton chewed his lip for a moment before responding, "What do you need?"

"Just intel on her disappearance, Carlie-boy." Alec stated in a tone which suggested he was being more then reasonable. "Got anythin' besides her last known location for me to work with here?"

"Well I suspect you'd do a damn sight better with even just that information then the investigators did." Carlton muttered acidly as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a stack of gritty papers.

"Jesus, man – what, you carry this crap everywhere you go?" Alec furrowed his eyebrows and leant in for a closer look at the myriad of paraphernalia. At a first glance, his eyes met with name-cards and newspaper cuttings.

"Yeah well I keep it just in case the head of ITU wanders into my local diner offerin' me help." Carlton retorted, and Alec raised his eyebrows.

"Fair enough. Now what's this?" He picked up a laminated clipping of what looked like a housing agent's advertisement.

"I thought you said you did your homework." Carlton frowned, "It's a listing of all the derelict houses rumored to have been occupied by the S.S."

Alec perused the page with keener interest, "That's funny. The investigation's findings showed nothin' solid on actual houses."

"Well that's because they're not gonna file anything that's only based on hearsay." Carlton reminded him grimly, "I compiled this from various urban legends websites, if you have to know."

Alec laughed, and the man rolled his eyes.

"It's the hottest lead you've got right about now, McDowell, so don't go pushin' your luck!"

"Sorry, mm…" Alec raised his hands with a suppressed smirk, "I'm cool. What's…uh…what's that one right there?" He pointed to one of the pictures that had been circled with red highlighter and scrawled underneath with the words 'Southview Manor'.

"That one there's the newest find." Carlton rubbed his nose, "I been doin' some digging around and apparently five people have gone missing in Southview up near Sector 4. This is the only run-down, abandoned building in the neighborhood for miles around."

Alec resisted the urge to snigger and merely settled on a studious nod. West was obviously going to desperate lengths to find his kid sister – not that Alec blamed him. So he didn't have a sister- not a flesh-and-blood sibling at any rate that he knew about. But had Nyx gone missing and two weeks of fishing proven fruitless, Alec would most likely be googling '' himself.

"Sounds like a lead. Cops do any sweeps yet?" He queried, and Carlton shook his head ruefully.

"No, and they won't either, unless a body turns up. The press is trying to faze the whole thing out since the long arm of the law is apparently out-matched in this one."

Alec shrugged with a grin, "Southview it is."

By the time Alec's car rolled into Southview, the dial on his watch read 5:00 PM. Alec had nearly had a heart attack when the damn thing had erupted into an insanely-loud grating buzz at 4:52 PM sharp.

It was his mate's not-so-subtle reminder to give her a heads-up.

Alec had had to smirk at the tactic and shake his head at his mate's ingenuity. It was one of the things he loved so much about Max – and subsequently, was also one of the things that made her a couldn't-live-with-couldn't-live-without woman.

Like the way she had packed him whole-wheat Doritos…

Alec hadn't needed to check the locks on his car twice judging by the neighborhood he found himself in. Southview may as well have been a ghost town for all the action going on. Quiet, orderly rows of suburban homes lined with picket fences and sporting well-kept lawns – the picturesque silence of it gave Alec the willies.

He pulled out his cell phone as he strode down the gravel road winding through the houses, keeping a sharp eye out for any locals who would dare to show their faces long enough for him to enquire after the location of Southview Manor.

The phone rang a heck of a lot longer then it usually did before a throaty voice crackled over the receiver.

"Hello?"

Alec's handsome face clouded over with concern instantly. It was Max's voice, of that much he was sure. But either she had suddenly come down with a terrible sore throat – which was unlikely – or she had been crying.

"Max, it's me."

"Alec, thank god!" She breathed, and his eyebrows narrowed sharply.

"What's the matter, Maxie?"

"It's Brac – he's gone. He's left Terminal City." She sounded panicked, desperate. So dreadfully unlike Max – even at her most melodramatic moments.

"What?" Alec felt his insides grow cold with terror but maintained an even front, "Max, when?"

"I didn't wanna call you before because I thought he would come home or that I would find him or something!" Max sounded fraught with distress, "I mean, I know he's run off before, but it's never been like this, Alec…"

"When did he leave, Maxie?" Alec repeated calmly. _Fuck, could this whole thing get any worse?_

"At around 1:00. He took your Ninja, baby, I'm sorry!"

_Ookay, it officially just got worse._ "Why didn't you stop him?" Alec winced after the words had left his mouth and kicked himself for the accusatory remark.

"I couldn't! I was…" Max inhaled sharply at this point and then blew out her breath. That was one of her tellers, Alec knew. She was going to lie to him.

"…in the shower when it happened. But I did have Mole and his gang sweep TC for him and he's gone…"

"Max you need to tell me what's goin' on, sweetheart, or I can't help you with this…"

"Alec, you have to! You've got to do something – that's my baby out there!" Max's voice was choking up. She was crying.

Max was crying.

Alec was silent for a long moment, his mind working through the options before he finally spoke again.

"He hurt you, didn't he?" The question was rhetorical, asked in a deadly, quiet voice.

"No, Alec…"

"That's the only way he coulda gotten out, Maxie - don't fucking lie to me!" He raised his voice, abandoning the composed façade and instantly regretting it as Max sobbed down the receiver.

"Alec I'm sorry…"

"Did he say where he was goin'?" He tried his best to sound stoically unruffled once more.

Max sniffed, "No, but right before he left, we had an argument over you and this whole job. Maybe Brac decided he wants a slice of the action."

Alec snorted sardonically, "Yeah well don't worry – he's gonna get a real king-sized piece o' the whoop-ass part, that's for sure." Then his tone went soft at the quiet shuddering of his mate's breath.

"Maxie, how bad did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine, Alec…"

"You don't tell me, I'm gonna assume the worst here, Max..."

"I'm a little choked up. It's no big deal."

Alec felt a wave of nausea wash over him so strongly that it was all he could do to keep the vomit in until he had comforted his mate and assured her that he would do all he could in his present situation to find their son. The moment he hung up the phone, however, Alec swooned and reached out at a nearby trellis to steady himself as he retched over the railing.

Only the call history on his cell phone was evidence against Alec's patent wish that it had all been one bad dream.

"Can I help you, sir?"

The female voice enquiring sternly broke into Alec's horrified reverie. The X5 hastily patched together his shattered veneer of confidence as he turned towards its source – a tired, wary-looking woman in her late thirties sporting an emblem on her jacket arm which suggested she was some sort of local law enforcement.

"Not unless you give good directions." Alec eyed her up down with bored hazel eyes.

She smiled wanly, "Most men never bother asking."

Alec pasted on a cocky grin in return, "Oh we do - we just never ask a woman."

The officer's smile widened tightly, elongating the wrinkles around her tired-looking eyes, "You're new in these parts. Visiting relatives?"

Alec shook his head, "Just takin' in the sights. Heard Southview had some real fine houses up for rent."

The woman raised an eyebrow, "That hasn't exactly been our hottest tourist attraction." She nodded towards him, "Any particular one in mind?"

Alec smirked, "You always this nosy?"

She raised both eyebrows now with a resigned smile, "It's my job!"

"Figures." Alec snorted humorously, and then reached into his pocket, "A friend of mine recommended this place for viewin'. Said it had been derelict for years, and bein' a renovator I took a real liking to the state of it." He held up a murky photocopy snapshot of the house that Carlton had shown him.

"Feel like givin' me a rundown on Southview Manor? I'm sure you're fully clued in on all the juicy details since you've no doubt interrogated the landlord on more then one occasion."

The woman narrowed her eyes at the snapshot and then at Alec. "Let's take a walk."

"Southview Manor's been abandoned since 1952 when its owner passed away in a freak accident." Marla Sanders (at least that had been the name she had given Alec) stated as they strolled through a local green – also virtually deserted.

Alec pursed his lips curiously, "It's never been re-inhabited?"

She shook her head, "The townspeople are very superstitious, and after a number of ghost sightings were passed on through word of mouth regarding the old house, the locals just agreed to leave the building to itself."

"So it's haunted then?" Alec queried dubiously, and Marla shrugged.

"So they say. Personally I don't get off on that stuff, but it's my job to keep the peace, so I backed the local community in fencing it off." She paused by a morose-looking bench and glanced around before turning to Alec with a resolute expression.

"Look, I know who you are, Agent McDowell. What I don't get is why Mathews has you here sniffing around on my turf!"

Alec raised his eyebrow, genuinely surprised. "I'm sorry…I think you've got the wrong guy here, lady…"

Marla scoffed, "ITU Head of Affairs, agent McDowell…494…Alec, _the_ Alec? You didn't really expect I wouldn't ID you on sight just because you grew some stubble and cut your hair, now did you?"

Alec grinned as he spread his hands helplessly, "I'll be whoever you want me to be, sweetheart."

"Southview Manor's been derelict for decades, McDowell, but up till recently it's been showing signs of inhabitance." To her credit, Marla ignored Alec's denial and reached into her jacket, handing him a series of blown-up photos. "I've had my suspicions about the place ever since Dean Rivers went missing around that spot four weeks ago."

Alec glanced down at the pictures in his hands – most of them were of young people, boys and girls in their mid/late teens, he guessed.

"These all missing kids?" He queried, and Marla nodded.

"At first it was just Dean, but then Sharlie Cambers disappeared right around the same spot, followed by Neville Blanche, Clarissa Sheldon, and now Casey Trendon, the latest vanishing act." She raised an eyebrow, "Call me conspiratorial if you want, Agent McDowell, but there are two similarities continuously present among the missing people. Hazard a guess?"

Alec narrowed his eyes and took a second browse through the shots. "They're all young and hot?"

"Crudely put, but yes." Marla nodded. "All aged thirteen through nineteen, clean medical records, no history of family defects – bright kids, as well. Some of Southview's best."

"Some of Southview's _only_ judging by the looks o' this place." Alec sniffed, glancing up to eye the only humans for miles around – an elderly couple – critically. "Where the fuck is everybody anyhow?"

"They're holing up." Marla sighed, "Locals are getting real ansty about the manor house and think there's some kind of curse going around because its ghostly inhabitants are pissed we boarded the place up."

Alec rolled his eyes, "Superstition can be a powerful tool. Keeps people off your back if nothin' else."

Marla squinted but brushed the comment aside, "Take a look at these last shots." She rifle through the pictures she had given Alec and moved a couple to the top of the pile. "Here's the manor house a month ago, right around the time Dean Rivers went missing. Notice anything abnormal, soldier-boy?"

Alec's eyes narrowed but he didn't look up, "What happened to _Agent McDowell_?"

"Just shut up and scan." Marla retorted, and Alec complied with a low-throated growl. It only took the X5's expert view scope a moment to pinpoint the anomaly.

"There – there's a shadow in the window, second floor."

"Very good." Marla sounded relieved that he had noticed it. "And here?" She drummed a finger on another of the shots.

Alec pursed his lips in concentration. "The outside drain on the left of the house is full – and judging by the roofing, there wasn't any rain."

"You're better then I thought." Marla commended in surprise, taking the pictures back. "Are you here to solve the mystery of the Seattle Squatters, special agent McDowell?" Her voice as mocking, but a silent hope was fraying the icy edges of her tone, and Alec could sense it, could feel the burden that this one, tired woman had been carrying alone in this god-forsaken town.

He smiled confidently, "I'm here to ascertain whether or not they exist, and then find out if they're transgenics or not…cuz if they aren't, then I'm outta here in a heartbeat, you got that, Sanders?"

She smiled tightly and he continued.

"I'm not here to do Mathews' job for him – just to see if these are _my_ psychos or someone _else's_ psychos. And if they're _my_ responsibility, I'll take'em out but I'm not stayin' around to clean up the mess, understand?"

Marla nodded, "I'm frankly surprised you came at all – and alone?"

Alec nodded with a sniff, "I work best that way."

"Well you needed my help just now and I suspect you'll be needing a place to stay." Marla inclined her head, "There's a motel up the road owned by a man name Rad Rogers. He won't ask any questions as long as he has cold, hard cash in his hands."

"Thanks but I'm not plannin' on staying long." Alec shook the hand the woman offered him with a smile, "Thank you for your time. I'll tell you somethin', you've been the first helpful human being I've encountered on this messed-up job so far."

She smiled, "And you're really not an arrogant dick like the lard-heads over at Seattle P.D make you out to be."

"Oh now you're breakin' my heart." Alec responded cockily and she laughed softly before a sharp look overtook her features and she averted her gaze.

"Is that your car?"

Alec turned just in time to see his black Lexus being hauled away by a beat-up yellow tow truck.

"What the fuck!" He screamed angrily as he moved to chase down the vehicle and give the dip-shit idiot who had dared to lay a finger on his precious car the earful of a lifetime. But Marla clamped a hand down on his shoulder.

"Don't!" She yelled, and Alec shoved her hand off and lunged forward again. She caught hold of his jacket.

"Wait! I know the vehicle officers – if you mouth off to their driver, you're kissing your car goodbye!" Marla's face was a picture of concern which suggested that retrieving Alec's vehicle was going to be no small feat. "I'll talk to them."

"_I'll_ talk to'em, thank you very much - but you're comin' with me in case I lose my cool and knock a few heads together." Alec scowled as his vehicle disappeared around the bend, "What the hell is their problem anyway? I wasn't even double-parked!"

Marla shook her head, "You were in a private lot, McDowell. What do you expect?"

"There wasn't any sign!" Alec defended himself in a haughty tone of voice which he often used when he had been caught in the wrong but was determined to weasel out of it if it cost him his right arm.

"Paddock Hurst bought out Southview twenty years ago – the _entire neighborhood's _a _private lot_." Marla informed him in a tone that suggested she entirely disapproved of the said Paddock Hurst. She sighed at Alec's annoyed expression, "Look around you, McDowell. Does this neighborhood look like the sort of place your average action-junkie copper would wanna be stationed? These people have way too much time on their hands."

"You're tellin' me." His scowl deepened and he tucked his hands viciously into his pockets, "Maybe it's time Paddock Hurst got a heads-up that I'm doin' this Podunk hood o' his a favor before he nicks anythin' else of mine."

"You're kiddin' me."

Alec resisted the urge to wipe the desk clerk's malevolent smile off of his bushy, grey-bearded face with his boot

"I mean, you gotta be - 650 for one hour in this craphole of a detaining lot you got here?" Alec jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at the holding yard which was fenced off with chicken wire and bore a closer resemblance to a junk yard. "That's a rip-off, plain and simple!"

"So talk to Hurst, kid." Drawled the short, wizened man as he took a puff of his cigar, "I don't make the rules – I just enforce'em."

As angry as he was at that moment, Alec had to grudgingly acknowledge the man's statement. It sounded exactly like his and Max's parenting relationship. Well…except that recently, Alec had been the one doing both.

When the hell had _that_ happened?

Alec kicked himself as he felt his insides twist with the fresh image of Max being strangled into incapacitation by their son. He banished the mental picture to a dark box in the back corner of his mind and reminded himself to avoid any leading thoughts that might recall it. There wasn't time for that right now…and besides, Alec would rather not have the additional ire pumping through his veins when he was already _real_ sweet on the idea of smashing some faces in.

Later, he told himself, squaring his shoulders and returning to the problem at hand. There was always a later.

Marla's hand was on his jacket now. "Come on. I'll take you to the head office."

"I wanna see Hurst." Alec growled, and she shook her head.

"He's a big cheese, McDowell. They don't hang around their Monopoly properties." Marla nodded at the desk clerk, "Steve." She turned to Alec, "We'll get your car back, I promise. Now come on – let's go see Tarrant."

"I don't buy your story, son." The broad-shoulder, grey-haired sheriff glanced skeptically at Alec from behind his spurred boots which were laid out on the desk in front of him. "Not for one galdurned minute."

Alec's eyebrows flickered. Damn yanks. Why were there still people in the rapidly-advancing, post-Pulse Americas who still thought that playing cowboys and Indians was cute?

"Well I'm not really here for your stamp of approval, Officer Tarrant…"

"_Sherriff_ Tarrant," The man barked, moving his feet back onto the floor and pushing up off his chair with a heavy shove on its armrests. "You best be watchin' that smart-ass mouth o' yours if you ever want your car back, boy."

Alec pursed his lips, "Look, I'm on a private investigation case here, Tarrant, and I really don't have time to spend playin' footsie."

Might as well dispense with the pleasantries – as if there had been any to begin with.

"What exactly is the nature of your _private investigation_ in Southview, Special Agent…what was it again?" Tarrant's voice smacked of sarcasm.

"McDowell." Alec responded flatly with a turgid grin, "And I ain't special – just pissed off."

At this point Marla, who had been standing a ways off with a rigid expression on her features, strode forward.

"Damn the two of you! This is why I don't work with men – their egos are always getting in the way of what is really important!"

"And that is, Sanders?" Tarrant queried mockingly.

She eyed him acerbically, "Getting the S.S the fuck outta our town, Tarrant!"

Alec's gaze flicked to the hefty sheriff cautiously. The man's ruddy face had darkened all of a sudden.

"Oh in that case, you got me all misjudged here, Sanders; I want every single piece of goddamned trannie garbage out of Southview." Tarrant cast Alec a pointed look of hatred. "You just get on with takin' out the trash, son. But if I so much as catch you breathin' in a way I find displeasing…" His hand strayed to the hilt of the handgun in his holsters, "I'll shoot you down like the animal you are – and then I'll torch the manor."

Alec's nostrils flared and his brilliant green eyes lit up with a red-hot fury. But if Tarrant was hoping he had goaded the X5 into making a move that would be the perfect excuse for the redneck sheriff to throw him in the can, the beefy hillbilly had another thing coming.

"You promise?" He grinned wickedly, and Tarrant's eyebrows furrowed. "Cuz you know, I just love bonfires – 'specially _real_ big ones." Alec didn't need his X5 reflexes to catch the keys one of Tarrant's men threw his way.

"Get the fuck out of my office." Tarrant growled, "And you clear outta town the moment this is done, you understand me?"

Alec found it incredulously stupid that the man was actually implying the transgenic would even want to dirty his boots with Southview soil – let alone have any sort of urge to stick around once his ugly duty – '_this'_ as Tarrant had called it (as though the man had any clue what Alec's task would actually entail) – had been done.

"Sure I understand you." Alec smiled knowingly, waving his keys in a gesture of farewell, "Sherrif," He nodded at the men skulking in the corner, "Boys."

Still wearing the annoying grin which Max had repeatedly smacked off his face during their span as acquaintances, Alec stalked breezily out of the head office, Marla on his tail and the door clicking shut behind him.

"I say we call the cops on him!" Nyx was livid at the stunt Brac had pulled and was venting her ire at everything in sight in true Max-style. "It's his own damn fault for playing truant – he can hole up in jail till Dad gets back and then work on Saturdays to pay off his own bail!"

"You know you would make one cruel-ass mother!" Max forced herself to keep the conversation light as she dished out the hot chocolate she'd just made, "And don't say you picked it up from me, cuz I wouldn't have come up with a punishment like that in my _worst_ moments!"

Nyx shrugged with a tight-lipped expression as she accepted the mug her mom was extending to her, "Serves Brac right! He's been nothing but an ass to all of us since god-knows-when and I don't get how you can just gloss over the fact that he's gone so far as to freaking strangle you and then skip town with Dad's Ninja…"

"Look would you drop the subject, Nyx?" Max barked, feeling the grate of a headache thumping against her temple and an overwhelming desire to run a steaming hot bath and stay immersed in its comforting balm for a very, very long time. "Brac screwed up, I get that, but the tragic curse of a parent seems to be that you love your kids no matter _what_ they do to themselves _or_ you!"

She regretted the words instantly, of course, but hoped that Nyx would interpret them and let it slide as was her customary reaction.

"Yeah well I guess the curse is hereditary," Nyx retorted evenly as she leant both hands on the countertop and looked intently at Max, "cuz it seems to work that way with daughters and their proud-ass, pushy moms!"

Max squinted at the bold proclamation for a heartbeat before she deciphered its meaning and accepted the proverbial peace pipe her girl was offering with a small smile and a downcasting of her eyes – body language which suggested that Max had taken Nyx's point and was backing off.

"Guess it does, huh?"

Nyx's full lips lengthened into a grin and her eyes sparkled with their usual warmth as she raised her mug in Max's direction, "Here's to the curse of caring."

Max laughed and clinked her cup with her daughter's…and as she sipped her drink, found herself wishing that Alec had been there to join in the toast. He would have grumbled a heartfelt 'I'll drink to that'.

Night had fallen huskily over Southview, thickening the deadly silence by the quiet croaking of the crickets which had come out to play now that the sun had hit the sack. Alec had always found the sound disturbing – it reminded him of the late-night forest hunting games he'd been forced to take part in back at Manticore…back in the days when stake-outs like these had been his destiny.

_X5 – 494…special ops…exemplary DNA…remarkable learning abilities…_

_Special…_

Alec narrowed his eyes and he knocked back the rest of his whiskey glass before moving in for a refill. _Stay the fuck outta my head, Renfro. _

He sighed at the smell of damp wallpaper that pervaded the rundown motel room he'd rented and pursed his lips, flicking his gaze up to peer keenly through the half-shut blinds of his window – while trying his darndest not to worry about Brac and all the possible horrors that might befall him.

Marla hadn't pulled one over on him by directing him to Rad's Motel. It was situated around 72 yards away from Southview Manor's rear-end – and the room which Alec had snapped up happened to have the dishiest eyeshot of said view.

That didn't mean he had to pretend Motel Rad even came close to the two stars pasted proudly above its doorway. But then Alec had only become picky about the pads he crashed at since Max had set him to fixing up their trusty old apartment back at TC and he'd realized just what a pain in the ass a substandard house could really be.

Alec returned his gaze to the sheets of paper spread out on the desk in front of him. Marla had slipped him a folder with all of the information she had compiled on the Squatter case to date along with her own personal finds and hypothesis'. Sanders was a driven woman – Alec had to give her that. It seemed she was relieved that somebody with a level of competence a good couple of notches up the bar then her peers was finally taking this bitch by the reins.

Alec frowned as he perused the snapshots of the abducted youths once again. Their medical, scholastic and social histories were proving to be more akin then Alec's conspiracy-theories-are-moot gland had a stomach for. All in perfect health, strength and beauty with more COA's then Alec had to show for all his studies at Manticore.

As if they had handed out Certificates of Achievement for clean kills and held Slasher Award ceremonies for Manticore's true-blue soldier boys.

Alec stifled a laugh as a script for a potential speech at an event like that pulled together in his mind. _We are gathered here today to honor these fine young men and women in their outstanding achievements in the realms of homicide and thievery and would like to shine a special light on the dazzling success of the recent kill-and-impersonate project launched on Friday…_

A freezing breath of air seeped through the open window and caressed Alec's skin fleetingly. The X5 paused and sniffed at the scent his enhanced sense of smell had picked up riding on the wind.

It smelt like cat.

Alec stood up cautiously and made his way over to the window. Sidling up, his hands dropped to the gun stashed in the back of his belt. Max hated guns with a vengeance – always had. That was why Alec hadn't let her see the selection of firearms he had lifted off Mole for the task ahead of him just in case things got even uglier then they already were.

The X5 moved closer to the window and then jerked his head up as he heard a faint scuffling sound on the piping climbing the wall outside his motel room. Some smart-ass thought they could shimmy into Alec's room and pull a fast one before he did the dirty. That was cute. Real cute.

The problem was that X5 – 494 didn't exactly feel like obliging them at the moment.

Alec threw a glance over his shoulder as he turned his back to the window. He would let them catch him unawares – and then he'd return the favor. If they were one of his prey, a sharp blow to the windpipe would send them to dreamy land long enough for Alec to rope them up and haul their ass to the makeshift lockup he'd thrown together.

The telltale clang of a steel-toed boot slipping on the grungy metal pipe directly outside of Alec's window presented the opportunity the man had been waiting for. Moving with all the feline grace and lightening speed that he possessed, Alec's arms lashed out under the blinds and clamped an iron grip on the jean-clad leg outside. One vicious yank later and the invader was tumbling towards the ground. Alec maintained his grip on the leg and hauled the intruder through the window, throwing them onto the ground and drawing his gun in one smooth move.

"Keep your ass on the ground or the carpet's gonna have brains for dinner!" Alec ordered, clicking off the safety and training it on the figure sprawled out wincing on the floor beneath him.

His captive growled and lashed out, hooking a foot around one of Alec's ankles and slamming a foot into his thigh. The X5 stumbled back and almost fell – _almost_ fell. Alec pivoted around on his other heel and dealt his attacker a punitive kick to the stomach, followed by a twin, before kneeling down and grabbing hold of their collar with one hand and their windpipe with the other. Even as he throttled them, Alec had to release his hold on the collar to yank off the ferocious hand that shot out and gripped his own throat stubbornly.

The bitch had some fight – Alec had to give him that. What he didn't have to give him was the blow to the temple with the butt of his gun…but the hook-maneuver the guy had pulled on Alec earlier had pissed him off. He'd always hated it when professionally-trained Manticorians stooped low enough to fight dirty.

But he still managed to take another slug to the gut – of a totally different nature – when he rolled the unconscious invader onto his back and got a look at his features.

The figure who was lying, out cold, on Alec's floor, was X5 – 494's own son.

Alec didn't sleep that night. He couldn't have even if a smidgeon of exhaustion had crept up on him – even if he hadn't alternated between restless pacing and sitting dejectedly beside the bed on which he'd placed Brac's unconscious frame…even if it hadn't taken Alec until the sun showed its face boldly on the horizon to come up with a calm, rational plan of dealing with the problem at hand.

He'd desperately wanted to call Max and hear her reassuring voice on the other end of the line, convincing him in her matter-of-fact way that together they would sort this bitch out the way they had countless other issues of a far grimmer nature. But Alec had resisted the urge – he wasn't at his mental peak and he knew Max wasn't at hers either…which meant that at least for the moment it was down to Alec to 'sort this bitch out'.

_Oh Joy. _

Alec sighed deeply, clasping his hands tightly together and pursing his lips as Brac stirred and then started awake with a jolt. The boy squinted against the smoggy sunlight streaming through the window and glanced sharply at the grubby room in which he found himself.

Brac's eyes narrowed further as they settled on his father seated across from him. Alec's eyes were heavy but very much alive with the freshly-sharpened rapier of his swaggering youthful indifference. The weary concern that was burning behind the veneer (and it was a veneer), however, was enough to shed light on the fact that Alec was anything but 'alright'.

Brac sat up hastily, his heart beginning to pump heavily. He didn't know where he was – the surroundings were wholly unfamiliar – but he knew the expression Alec was wearing all too well.

Brac resisted the urge to panic. He was in deep water, of that much he was certain. His clarity of mind suddenly vanished as a searing pain shot through his head.

"What the hell am I doing here?" Brac demanded groggily.

Alec raised his eyebrows, "Seems to be the question we're _both_ askin' here! Take it easy – you've been out for six and half hours."

Brac inhaled sharply as he cradled his forehead in his hand, "Ah…what the fuck happened to my head? Feels like it was pounded against a metal grate for a freaking hour…"

"I hit it with my gun," Alec informed him bluntly, "and you can be damn grateful I didn't do it harder, or you'd still be in the hole!"

Brac scowled acerbically, "What'd you do _that_ for, for God's fucking sake…"

"It was your bad for sneakin' around my window and expecting that I wouldn't catch you like every _other_ time you try the _climb-in-after-hours_ trick!" Alec's voice was taut and matter-of-fact. It had taken him the better part of the previous night to even conjure up the grace to maintain an even front.

"So you hit me with a gun?!" Brac was floored.

The kid looked pale, Alec noted with some alarm. His lips had lost a great deal of their hue as well. It could have been down to the bout of unconsciousness or a lack of nourishment or both – Alec had no idea how long it had been since his son had last eaten.

"You were sniffin' around outside my window and you attacked the moment I pulled you in, Brac." Alec explained with a patience he didn't feel, "This is a high-risk mission and when I'm in that mode, I don't have time for maybes. I'm sorry about your head, buddy, but frankly, you knew better then to jump me in the dark when I'm on a stake-out."

"_What_ is your _problem_? Wait – don't answer that; I'll do it _for_ you!" Brac snapped, rubbing a finger over the red welt on the side of his temple, "You're a dick! And to top it off, you think everything's about _you_ – like I happened to be scaling the piping outside your window because I had _any_ intention of dropping in and saying hello!"

Alec pressed his fingertips together and drummed the sides against his lips in an effort to retain his cool – his false cool. "Brac, what the hell are you doin' here?" He asked quietly, "And don't bother lying, cuz it ain't gonna work, buddy."

"Look it's none of your fucking business…" Brac crossed his arms and scowled viciously at Alec. He never finished his sentence.

Alec's hands were on his collar in an instant – strong, ruthlessly efficient hands that had killed with their bare, naked skill alone. Alec lifted Brac's upper body clean off the bed and brought his face only an inch away from his son's.

"Oh it's one hundred percent my fucking business, and you know what else is, Brac? The fact that you're out here in _total_ defiance of my orders and not only are you here, but you're here at your mother's expense – don't think I don't know what you did to her, Brac!"

"You don't know jack fucking shit, Alec, you never did!" Brac screamed, clutching at the hands around his shirt enraged, "And I didn't hurt Mom half as bad as you do every single fucking day!"

Alec's hand swiped sharply across his son's face – it wasn't a stinging blow of outrage. Instead it was a controlled smack (Alec had never _once_ lost control with his children) that let Brac know without a shadow of a doubt how deeply his actions had cut his father. He grabbed Brac's chin and turned his face to meet his own.

"If you _ever_ lay a finger on Max again, I don't care _what_ I have to do – you're gonna remember it every single day for the rest of your life, you got that, Brac?"

Brac grit his teeth through closed lips as he glared malevolently at Alec, refusing to respond.

That glare remained pasted on his face for the following hour. It was the coldest, most painful hour both Brac and Alec had ever experienced.

Alec glanced up from the papers he had been looking over and raised an eyebrow at his son. The boy was sitting in exactly the same position he had been for the past 60 minutes – arms crossed over his chest, boots up on the bed…eyes burning a hole in the floor – and Alec's chest.

Alec slammed the file in his hands shut and sniffed as he stood up. "I ordered some breakfast. Should be here in around ten minutes. We eat," He shoved the papers into his backpack, "then we hit the road."

Brac narrowed his eyes even deeper, "I'm not…"

The sharp jingling of Alec's cell phone cut the boy off. Alec's eyes never left his son as he pulled out his phone and thumbed on the answer button.

"Hello?"

Brac rolled his eyes and rubbed at the back of his neck with a slight wince – and tried not to feel sick as he recognized the sound of Max's voice echoing faintly from his dad's phone.

"Hey Maxie, how you holdin' up?" Alec queried quietly, his green eyes still trained on his son as he spoke and listened to his mate's reply, "Nyx alright?...Yeah well I hear her on that one. Look I can't stay long, hon; it's gonna be a long haul today and bright and early starts aren't exactly my most potent kick-off."

Alec inhaled deeply and held the breath for a moment at Max's next query before he blew it out, "It's fine. I found him – he's with me."

Brac shook his head with a growl as he turned it away from Alec's reproving gaze, "Tell Mom I don't wanna talk to her."

Alec raised his eyebrows but that was the length of his acknowledgement, "Don't worry about us, Maxie – everything's fine, I promise…damn it Max, I said not to worry about us! Can you do that before you get an ulcer and give Nyxie one to boot?"

Brac felt his jaw clench at the snapped order his dad was issuing to Max – something that was never a good idea on the best of days. Alec had evidently reached breaking point and the abrupt 'I love you, call you later' he uttered before hanging up sounded sincere yet strained.

The problem was that Breaking Point seemed to be every McDowell's residence at the moment.

"I'm not goin' home." Brac informed him acidly, and Alec bit back a retort to the tune of 'you will if I fucking drag you'.

"You're right – you're not." Alec traced a finger along the hem of his jacket and threw his son a matter-of-fact expression, "You're comin' with me to pay Paddock Hurst a little visit – I might need a second pair of fists if things get ugly."

Brac squinted disbelievingly, "You're lettin' me in on the game?"

"I'm keepin' a leash on you until I can haul your ass home and kick it till your nose bleeds!" Alec retorted sharply as he pulled on his jacket, "Whatever we do out there, Brac, I just want you to remember you're in for the whoopin' of the century once all this is done."

Alec knew he sounded angry. It was an emotion he rarely allowed to come to the fore when dealing with his children. But Alec _was_ angry, and he wanted Brac to know it too. He was pissed off at his son for scaring the hell out of his parents. He was incensed that Brac would just throw every moral his parents had ever instilled in him to the wind and gallivant off in a fit of temper – leaving Max beside herself at home and Alec, on one of the most important missions ITU had ever faced, driven distractedly sick with worry.

"You know, I know this is gonna come as a real shock to you, Alec, but I might just have one or two things goin' for me in Southview that got nothin' to do with your little scoop-fest." Brac snarled in retort as he stood up and ran a hand through his rumbled hair. His eyes left off boring a hole in Alec's visage for a moment to scan the room fleetingly.

"I got no doubt." Alec responded coolly, "Looking for this?" He reached behind the desk and held up the small backpack which he'd found strapped to Brac's frame the night before. One fumble into his jacket pocket later, and Alec had produced a forged passport and airline ticket.

Brac's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared, "Alec, I bought those – they're mine."

"Oh I'll bet you bought'em. My question's with what money, Brac?"

"Not yours, Alec." Brac eyed him challengingly, "Give'em back."

Alec pursed his lips and, after a moment's wait, tossed Brac his backpack. "You can keep the bag for now, though I've already taken the liberty of appropriating one or two things I didn't think belonged to you." His tone smacked of sarcasm as he held up the papers, "These I'm keepin'."

"The hell you are!" Brac snapped and started forward, but a knocking at the door halted him in his steps. Alec flipped the lock open and the squeaking door creaked on its hinges as a pair of grubby hands shoved a tray of greasy cardboard fast food boxes into Alec's hands.

He muttered out a thanks before slamming the door shut once more, relieved at the interference. He hadn't wanted another fight. The attendant hadn't exactly been eager to stick around anyway judging by how fast they had turned on their heels - must've caught a whiff of the testosterone crackling in the air around the dingy motel room.

Alec set the tray down and turned his nose up for a brief moment at the sour smell emanating from the less-then-standard Chinese take-out he'd ordered before turning to face his son once more. Brac had eased up on the aggression slightly and was eyeing the food with a hungry gleam in his eyes.

Alec wondered fleetingly how long it had been since the kid had eaten.

"You wanna eat, kid?" He queried with a raise of his eyebrows, and Brac shrugged acidly.

"Are we done here?"

"No we're not. I still got a few things to lay out flat for you." Alec stated matter-of-factly, and Brac rolled his eyes and plopped his lanky frame down on a chair near the food.

"Mind if I work around your narrative here?" He leant over to examine the contents of one of the take-out boxes, and Alec's hand slammed down on top of it with enough force to crumple the top of the cardboard.

"Yeah I do mind, Brac. See the way I figure it, I should walk away from this job right now and drive your sorry ass home for a whippin' – but somethin' you never seemed to understand about me is that I got other responsibilities besides makin' sure you haven't broken a nail. And if it means I gotta drag you after me while I'm makin' my rounds – which by the way is piss borin' work and just the kinda stuff you hate – then that's what I'm gonna do!"

Brac pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow. He opened his mouth to ask the question 'what if I refuse'…and then shut it again. Like hell he was even going to bother asking. Brac knew his dad well enough to already be aware of the answer to that particular question.

Alec wasn't leaving his son an alternative. When his eyes got that rock-hard, soldierly glaze to them, it was _all_ his way – no highway option.

Brac opted for the silent treatment – it never failed to grate on the loquacious X5's nerves after a sufficient time period. He raised his eyebrows and said absolutely nothing at all.

Alec nodded as if to acknowledge the tactic his son was playing with resignation and turned his attention to the food in front of them. "Eat up. We're headin' out in ten." He turned to stalk away, then paused and stood over his unruly boy. "Oh and Brac?" Alec raised an eyebrow wryly, "I don't wanna hear anymore of this _Alec_ crap, you got that? Much as it embarrasses the hell outta me with the way you're actin' right now, I'm still your dad," He waved a hand at his chest before pointing a finger at Brac, "and you're gonna remember that, Brac…or I'm gonna remind you in ways you'd rather give a miss. Clear on that?"

Brac's green eyes narrowed into slits, and his jaw clenched. "You ordered Chinese. You hate Chinese."

"Nah, I _dislike _Chinese. What I _hate_ is bein' ignored – now do we have an understanding?"

"Whatever!" Brac threw out angrily, and then added caustically "_Dad_!"

"Okay." Alec shrugged and held up his hands in an 'I'm done with this for now' manner before he settled himself into a chair. "It was the only food joint open before eight, so shut up and chow down. By the way, are you gettin' sick?"

_Of hearin you rant? Damn Right!_ Brac wanted to snap back, but he knew better then to do so. Instead he blinked deliberately at his dad.

"Why? Am I not my usual _vivacious_ self?"

Alec cast Brac a heavy-lidded look which read 'save the sarcasm for someone who it ruffles', "Answer the question, Brac."

"I'm fine! Just a little woozy from takin' a blow to the head from a handgun. It doesn't leave you feeling peaches and cream, in case you were wondering!" The teenager retorted as he tore open one of the boxes,

Alec sighed deeply but allowed the answer to satisfy him for the moment. Brac rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath that Alec didn't even attempt to catch as he opened the box in front of him and glanced at its contents in disgust. Alec raised his eyebrows and forced a mouthful of sweet and sour chicken between his lips.

It was all he could do to keep from spitting it out in revulsion. This wasn't even food. It was crap that exceeded even Alec's standard of what could come under the category of junk food.

Alec chewed with all the forced causality he could muster as Brac, nose scrunched up in horror, scooped out a pale green chili that was dripping with grease in between his chopsticks. The boy raised his eyebrows knowingly at his dad, and Alec's weak resolve crumbled as he spat out the mouthful of chicken with relief.

"You wanna wait till something opens?"

"_Big_ yeah."

The drive through Southview's back alleys to the 'Adam's Family' manor where Hurst was said to be temporarily residing while sniffing out the profits gleaned from the bought-out neighborhood was, for the most part, crisply silent. Alec was mulling over his luck at having caught the old geezer in town while attempting to piece together a stirring speech that would turn the keys in the choice locks Alec had selected as being the most important objectives of his visit.

Brac was dozing in the shotgun seat with his IPod headphones raging out death metal at full blast. Alec had to resist the urge to reach over and hit the 'stop' button on the annoying machine more then once. But when he overheard strains of Marilyn Manson's pre-Pulse crooning - that was when he cracked.

"Brac," Alec gripped the steering wheel tightly and pursed his lips as his son nodded his head in sync with the music that was giving Alec the willies. His father heightened his voice, "Hey!"

"_What_?" Brac growled, eyes still closed, and Alec rolled his own.

"You heard about secondhand smoking? You know, where the geek standin' behind Mr Chimney on the night bus gets lung cancer cuz said Sir Smokestack insisted on havin' his hourly puff?"

"This is my favorite track, Dad, and you're killin' the climax here, so what's your point?" Brac whined, eyes still shut as his head swayed in time with the blaring bass in his earphones.

"I'm just sayin' I already don't approve of you listenin' to that crap – but you pumping _my_ ears full of it is crossing an already over-stepped line here, buddy!" Alec swerved his Lexus down the well-groomed lane of a tree-lined pathway leading up to Paddock's home-away-from-home.

Brac shrugged caustically, "So crank up the volume on your _own_ vintage garbage."

"That's real cute, Brac." Alec responded with a strained grin as they pulled up outside a horn-rimmed iron gate crowned with barbed wire and a bitch of an intercom system at its flank. "Just keep up with the mouthing – you're _beggin'_ me to stash that IPod o' yours away for a week or two at this rate."

Brac's eyes fluttered open and he cast Alec a mordant glower. He faked a loud cough and hacked out the word "Bitch!" midway as he thumbed off the power on his player.

Alec smirked triumphantly, "That's my boy."

Brac grimaced in retort, "Just hit the freaking buzzer."

Alec shrugged jadedly and rolled down his window, reaching out and pressing the red buttoned intercom.

After a moment, a stern voice crackled over the speaker. "Hello?"

"Here to see Hurst?" Alec stated authoritively, and there was a muffled snort over the line.

"Got an appointment, kid?"

"Yeah, 12:30." Alec responded with a matter-of-fact sniff. Brac rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath as there was a stifling silence sizzling over the com.

After a moment, the voice rekindled, "Name?"

"Don't recall givin' one." Alec said in a bored tone of voice which he often employed during a bluff. He looked over at his son and crossed his fingers. Brac shook his head and mouthed the words 'you're crazy' with a furrow of his eyebrows.

Alec shrugged with a knowing grin, "Runs in the family, lil' buddy." He turned his attention back to the crackling speaker as it belted out a reply to his previous statement.

"You're cleared for entry. Leave your vehicle out front – someone will park it for you."

"Ah like hell." Alec replied between a grit-teethed smile as the gate slid aside before them and he ritzed his car through the opening and down a standard gravel driveway which led them to the front side of a large, impressive house terraced off from the well-kept garden that ensnared it.

"How'd you know what to say?" Brac evidently had a hard time spitting out the query as Alec inched his precious Lexus into a clearing and killed the purring engine. "To the guard, I mean."

Alec shrugged with the same careless, obnoxious smirk he'd been sporting virtually the entire day, "Ah it's all about interpreting tone. See, Mr. Intercom's voice went two octaves lower when he asked me for my name." Alec flicked off his seatbelt with relief. He hadn't worn the damn things for years – till of course his kids had gotten old enough and smart enough to ask him why they had to buckle down every single time they rode in the car while their dad seemed to get off scot-free.

Kids were a pain in the ass – especially smart-mouthed, pure-bred X5s like Alec's. So why couldn't he imagine living without his children? Cocky, wise-ass little punks…they were already growing up way too much like mini-me's of Alec and Max for their damn good.

"Figured the 12:30 appointment – if there even _was_ one – didn't have a name on it, or he would've sounded a heck of a lot more certain." Alec ducked out of the car and shut the driver's door with the measured care he'd employed ever since he'd scored the thing. It was his baby - almost like the third child he and Max had never had. Nyx had always joked about how they should name the thing. Alec hadn't wanted another kid…a sexy-ass blonde he could ride every day without cheating on Max was more up his alley.

"What if you'd been wrong?" Brac questioned as he got out of the passenger door and straightened out his jacket.

Alec grinned, "I woulda hoisted you over the gate and jumped up after you."

"Very funny." Brac scowled, "I could clear that gate in a leap."

"Ah sure you could." Alec replied with a wide, disbelieving smile, "That's why you still have'ta use the old dumpster outside our window ledge to get a grab at the thing."

Brac gave his father a dirty look, "Go screw yourself."

"Hey," Alec's eyes grew quieter, more matter-of-fact…and a lot more dangerous… as he eyed Brac from the corner of heavy-lidded eyes, "You wanna mouth off, you do it on your own damn turf. Your whole 'my mission, my choice' thing mighta gone down with Jace but it ain't goin' down with me." Alec sounded like a bored drill sergeant who was sick of some young upstart throwing spanners, "You're playin' by _my_ rules here. Last thing I need is Hurst throwin' us out cuz your etiquette ain't up to par for his cushy lil' town."

"Ugh Jesus, Dad, whatever!!" Brac fairly yelled as he slammed his car door shut so hard the Lexus shuddered, "Just keep your panties on, for fuck's sake!"

Alec snorted out a laugh as his dangerous grin appeared and he threw a cursory glance skyward. "Eeyeah okay that does it." He muttered from between a grit-teethed smile before throwing a quick eyebrow-raise in the mix. Alec tossed a brief scan around to ensure the area was deserted and then grabbed Brac by the arm, twisting it behind his back and bending the struggling kid over the hood of the Lexus in a blur of smooth, quick motion which would have had the grace-coordinators back at Manticore oohing and ahhing.

"Dad, what the hell…"

"My thoughts exactly!" Alec was speaking quietly, determinedly and firmly with a composed expression on his features as he kept Brad pinned to the car with a tight grip on his son's twisted arm and another on his shoulder. "I dunno know _what's_ been puttin' the idea into your head that you can act like a spoilt little brat and get away with it!"

"Get your fucking hands off me!"

Alec responded to the enraged yell from a humiliated Brac by twisting the boy's arm sharper and sending a small gasp from the kid's lips as his dad leant in to talk firmly in his ear.

"See that's what I'm talkin' about! You wanna give me _one_ good reason why I shouldn't just treat you like the little horror that you're bein' and spank your ass right in the middle o this lot? Huh Brac?" Alec felt his dreadfully proud son squirm with embarrassment at the concept. The kid scowled viciously at Alec, but he ceased to struggle and clamped his jaw shut.

Alec snorted, "'S'what I thought. Now listen up; we're gonna go in there and you're gonna mind your manners and follow orders for the rest of this godawful trip or I'm gonna make your butt so freaking warm you won't _need_ to 'keep your panties on'! You got me?"

"Mr. Hurst?" Alec's broad (and bogus) grin closely matched his son's as the two McDowell's shook hands with the wan-looking, aged man who stood before them.

"What can I do for you gentlemen?" Hurst queried in a weak, throaty voice. He was eyeing the two unexpected visitors with a cautious but genial front which suggested that he was not altogether displeased that his 12:30 appointment with Mr. Nameless seemed to have been altered.

Alec cleared his throat and pasted on his staple 'I'm just a harmless lil' boy' grin, "Well, sir, I'm Agent McDowell, here representin' the ITU…have you, uh, ever heard of ITU?" He flashed his ID and the old man squinted at the badge.

"Transgenics? What in the heck has the _International Transgenic Union_ got to do with my town" Hurst queried skeptically, and Alec nodded.

"Well, sir, it's like this. You see, I hear there's a little problem in Southview with some o' your kids goin' missing and I was sent down here to find out if any of my wards got anythin' to do with it." He sniffed matter-of-factly, and Hurst narrowed his eyes.

"Fair enough. Who's the kid?" The old man nodded at Brac.

"I'm his partner." Brac informed him acidly, and Alec raised an eyebrow at his son.

"Uh this is…" Alec began, but Hurst interrupted with a scoff of disbelief.

"My aged wrinkled ass, you're an agent!" The wizened man growled, "You don't look one damned day over fourteen…"

"What the _fuck_!" Brac barked, clearly insulted (most people ranked the teenager's age between fifteen and seventeen), and Alec placed a hand on his shoulder to warn him off - but Hurst had yet to place the cherry on the cake.

"And that's bein' generous!" The old man finished snidely, and Brac seethed, taking an involuntary (or was it really) step forward. Alec tightened his grip on his son's arm and moved him firmly back into place.

"Sir, I apologize for my friend – he's…"

"You know, son, I ain't stupid." Hurst had already moved on from the subject and was eyeing Brac with a glint of…was that…amusement in his eyes? "I seen enough faces in the genetically-enhanced yearbook to know Brac McDowell when I see'im." Hurst grinned wickedly as Brac squared his shoulders and glared at Alec with an 'I told you so' look, while Alec merely widened his eyes and shifted them around in a moment of uncomfortable surprise. "Looks like ya, that's for sure. He a classic example of home-grown transgenic offspring? Cuz he's got a mouth on him nothin' like the rest o' your kind I ever met with."

"Yeah well he wasn't exactly raised in a military environment where they smack you down for breathin' funny – _like the rest of our kind_." Alec stated a little sharper then he'd intended as he cast Brac a measured glance that plainly read 'chill out'.

Brac's jaw locked tightly, "Mind if I use the bathroom, Mr. Hurst?"

"Go on ahead, son – it's down the hall, first door on your right." The aged man watched Brac's lean back disappear down the corridor with an intent look in his eye.

"No disrespect to your _kind_, special agent McDowell…"

"I ain't special." The words left Alec's mouth before he could stop himself.

Hurst raised his eyebrows, "No disrespect, as I mentioned before – but when you genetically empowered beauties pop the babies out, are they…" He lowered his voice eagerly, "born with…special traits?"

The man was merely curious – Alec could tell that much…which was why he was willing to humor him for a moment or two. Might sweeten the deal, if nothing else.

"Well besides the extra bit o' ad-lib," Alec imagined Brac's seething glare with a wince, "I'd say they're pretty much like their parents…"

"Well it's just that as far as I heard," Hurst leant in closer, "they weren't uh…born with barcodes."

Alec shook his head, "Nope. Not so far at any rate."

"So you wanna explain to me how your son is any different?" The old man queried with a raise of his eyebrows, "I mean; is it cuz he's the offspring of the two closest things to perfect that Manticore ever made that he gets the whole DNA package, including the trademark?"

Alec frowned and smiled at the same time, "Brac doesn't have a barcode."

Hurst looked confused, "Sure as hell I saw one on the back o' his neck when he was traipsing down the hall not two minutes ago!"

Alec raised his eyebrows dubiously and grinned patronizingly, _Ookay, standin' next to Mr Senior Senile Citizen here…_ "I've never seen it, and I've been lookin' at my boy for thirteen years and five months now, Mr. Hurst_._"

"Ah…" The old man smiled knowingly, "and how many of those years have you spent watchin' him walk away from you, Agent McDowell?"

The words danced quietly from Hurst's lips and matter-of-factly tore a hole in Alec's gut. The X5's tongue stuck to the lid of his mouth, which had suddenly gone dry. The old geezer had been painfully right on one count – who the hell was to say that he was wrong on the other one?

When Brac ambled back down the hall, he froze dead in his tracks at the looks he was receiving from Alec and Hurst.

His eyes darted to the left and then the right to ensure that he hadn't just walked into some kind of trap.

"What?"

"Brac, when the hell did this happen?"

Alec's voice had settled into the quiet, deadly tenor it took on whenever someone was in a serious amount of trouble. Only this time, the expression on his face bore more resemblance to a fear that had more to do with a haunting memory then the barcode freshly tattooed on the back of Brac's neck – the tattoo he'd failed to notice due to the strategic positioning of his boy's collar.

He would have to laser it off before Max saw it and her heart palpitations started to resurface.

"Uh, yesterday when I was in Sector 2, waitin' for a car to jack…I think." Brac's voice was pitched with carelessness…and more then just a hint of uncertainty.

"He can jack a car?" Hurst, cracking the door which led into the side room Alec had casually led Brac to in order to get a better look at the tattoo, piped up eagerly, "Did you learn him that or is it just in the genes?"

"Can you give us a minute, pal – we're a little tied up here at the moment!" Alec growled over his shoulder and cast Hurst a baleful squint.

"Sorry, sorry, carry on." The old man raised his hands in surrender and motioned for them to continue before slamming the crack shut. Alec turned his attention back to his boy.

"Whaddya mean, you _think_?" He queried stonily, and Brac, sitting on a chair with his back to Alec, winced slightly at the question.

"I wasn't exactly _thinking_ straight at the time, alright?"

"Oh hell, you got _that_ right, Brac!" Alec snapped as he pulled aside the collar to take a second look at the still-sore branding that lined its way across Brac's neck.

"I _mean_ I was _high_!" His son retorted mordantly and squared his shoulders. "And the acid was dodgy, to boot! So don't expect to me have an ace memory chip for all of yesterday's happenings, Dad, cuz I can't clearly recall a freaking thing!"

"Jesus, Brac!" Alec straightened to his full height and cuffed his son upside the head, "What the hell were you thinkin', gettin' high off pumped-up street drugs? You know damn well even an X5 can die from that shit!"

"Well I was piss drunk at the time – what was I _supposed_ to do?" Brac yelled, leaping up from his chair and turning to face Alec head-on.

"You sure as hell _weren't_ supposed to knock back some urban kick-offs and get a barcode endin' in _493_ tattooed on your neck!!" Alec thundered in response, and Brac's top lip curled up to reveal a set of teeth.

"Why not? Does it scare you to be reminded of the brother you've forgotten – the one Mom killed because he was embracing what he was created to be – a soldier…?"

Alec grabbed hold of his son's collar and reflexively lifted him onto his tiptoes, "You got no idea what the hell you're talkin' about."

"I've been studying up on my uncle for years now, and I think I know him better then you ever did seein' as you never even met the man!" Brac growled between gritted teeth, and Alec narrowed his eyes at the zeal and tenacity with which the kid had spoken the words _my uncle_.

It had sounded a hell of a lot more like _my hero_.

"Don't ever talk about Ben like you knew him – _ever_, do you hear me?"

"Wait a minute – Ben?" Hurst's head reappeared through the doorway, "493? Ain't that your twin who went all tooth-fairy bout fifteen years back?"

"Shut up!" Brac and Alec both snapped at the same time and then threw each other scowls.

"No need to overreact, McDowell!" Hurst tutted, holding up his wrinkled palms and raising his eyebrows, "All I'm sayin' is it's mighty curious, is all. Now are you boys done with the family drama, cuz it seems to me like we got our work cut out for us with these Squatter folks?"

Alec's jaw tightened, but he released his grip on Brac's jacket and the boy's feet thudded against the floor. The two exchanged a tight-lipped expression before turning to Hurst.

"Boy, there are a heck of a lotta similarities 'tween the three o' you." Hurst shook his head as he uttered his last final judgment on the matter.

Alec's nostrils flared at that statement and his voice lowered several notches as he stepped closer to the man. "You got that wrong, Hurst. I ain't nothin' like Ben and I'll be damned if my son turns out anythin' like him either."

"So sure you can help it…?"

"I ain't sayin' it again." Alec interrupted, eyeing the man with a cold glint in his green orbs, "Drop the subject."

Hurst shrugged, "Well, well, well – Smart-Alec McDowell has a touchy spot after all. Fine." He turned to stalk away and then glanced over his shoulder as he moved on down the hall, "You comin' or what? I got some scoop on Southview Manor you might be interested in."

Alec pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at the aggravating landowner's retreating back.

Brac let out something akin to a growl, "When this is over, can I kick his…"

"After I've had my go." Alec responded flatly, his eyes never leaving the disappearing form of Paddock Hurst as the man rounded a corner. "Now come on…and for God's sake, get a grip on your manners!"

Brac scoffed and mimicked the rebuke under his breath behind Alec's back as the two headed after Paddock Hurst.

The persistent bleating of the telephone forced open Max's eyes and dragged her from her sleeping state with a jolt. Max sat up and rubbed her eyes, disoriented. She'd fallen asleep while going over Nyx's and Brac's grammar sheets – for the second time in fifteen minutes.

For a girl who rarely slept more then a couple of hours a night for the better part of her existence, that was pretty bad. Max staved off her exhaustion with a deep breath as she lumbered to the phone and held it to her ear.

"Hit me."

"This is gonna, and damn hard too." Mole sounded apologetic on the other end of the line, "Max, you gotta come to central. The Secretary o' Defense wants you online in his conference room in less then twenty minutes!"

"On my way." Max yawned and nodded at Nyx as the girl entered the kitchen and inquired with an upturning of her palms as to the identity of the caller, "What's he want anyhow, Mole?"

"I dunno, but it doesn't look good, Max. He's got that war-mongerin' look in his eyes and he's askin' specifically for an ITU representative that's X5." Mole sounded more serious then Max had heard him in a great while, "I think we're earmarked for a blame-game, Maxie. You'd better get down here fast."

Max nodded, though she knew full well the gesture would be lost on the nomalie, "I'll be there in twenty."

The afternoon sun was playing hooky behind the drab veil of grey clouds covering Southview by the time Alec's Lexus pulled up on the curb outside of a quaint, terraced house surrounded by white picket fencing - and dozens of other homes matching its build to a Tee.

Brac frowned as they exited the car, "What's with these houses, man? Looks like somethin' outta Silence of the Lambs."

Alec twisted his key in the circular lock in his door and flicked his tongue over his bottom lip, "Yeah whatever - I don't get off on your heebie jeebie crap, kiddo." He glanced warily at the figure who sat unmoving on the porch, their bulk spread over a rocking chair and their eyes fully engrossed in the paper they held. Alec's zoom vision served him the heads-up that Sherriff Bill Tarrant was midway through a sleazy porn mag.

Great. This was going to be _real_ fun.

"Look uh…" Alec turned to Brac, who, he noted, was also zooming in on the said magazine with poorly-veiled interest, "I know it's probably my fault for not givin' you this speech earlier on, but when we're out here on the job, somethin' that's very important is maintaining an air of professionalism."

Brac snorted derisively and turned his smirking face away from Alec as he placed his hands on his hips, "Yeah. Sure. Right, Dad."

Alec's usual response to a cocky quip of that nature would've normally been a slug to the shoulder Maxie-style. But today he wasn't feeling in a very playful mood. Maybe it was the fact he hadn't had coffee yet. Or it could have been that fact he hadn't slept all night.

Or perhaps it was both, coupled with the fact that his son was now sporting a barcode that technically ranked him a notch above Alec. Either way, _494_ was getting the itch to remind Brac _McDowell_ who was still the head of their family.

"Well fine. If you can't keep a filter on that mouth o' yours, then you can just zip it altogether." Alec huffed decidedly as they began to stroll up the pathway to Tarrant's front patio.

"Ooh…now we _know_ Dad's nerves are gettin' ruffled when he starts playin' the _silence restriction_ card." Brac teased as they cleared the gate to the picket fence with one large, matching stride.

"You're goin' the right way for a fat lip!" Alec sing-songed through a grit-teethed, breezy grin pasted across his face as he nodded at Tarrant, climbing the steps onto the porch.

"What're you doin' on my porch, McDowell?" The redneck officer growled, glancing up to scowl at the pair of X5s standing over him.

"Sherriff, hey…we were in town so we thought we'd pop by for a lil' neighborly chat and maybe score some homemade goodies or somethin'." Alec dug his hands into his pockets and widened his smile.

"What're you doin' on my porch, McDowell?" Tarrant repeated virulently.

"We heard there was a garden party." Brac covered his mouth the split-second after the incriminating words had left his lips and furrowed his eyebrows apologetically at Alec, who was frowning in an 'I told you, it's only cute when _I_ do it' manner at the offhand remark.

"Well if there were, you sure as hell wouldn't be invited, kid!" Tarrant drawled as he eyed Brac up and down.

"Oh I'm sorry – there's probably a wrinkle-counter at the door, no? Gotta be '_over 21_'." The adolescent responded with a bite to his tone that neither Alec nor Tarrant found remotely endearing.

"You got a smart-ass mouth on that pretty lil' face o' yours – I oughta wipe it right off with the back o' my hand!" Tarrant growled, "Then again, I 'spose it runs in the family, don't it, 494?" He smiled caustically at Alec.

"Now Sherriff, I gotta ask: just what makes you think this kid and I even swim in the same gene pool?" Alec placed a hand on his heart and twisted his face into a farcical expression of hurt. It had worked to piss bigger and brighter men then Tarrant out of their heads before.

"Well I could give a lot of reasons, McDowell," Tarrant's eyes returned unabashedly to his dirty pages, "the main one bein' that he's managed to git under my skin in less then ten seconds flat…and another bein' that he's carryin' the same airborne stench as the rest o' your kind."

Brac's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, "Yeah? Well people with their heads shoved up their asses generally tend to smell a load of crap…"

"Brac." Alec interjected, and the teenager threw his dad a look which plainly demanded whether the man was really going to let that one slide.

Alec raised his eyebrows and unconsciously reverted to the tone of voice he used when he was sending a subliminal 'I'll take of this' signal. "Why don't you go on back to the car? I'll meet you there in ten."

"I think I like it here…"

"Brac?" Alec's tone began to ring with a faint warning, "Ten minutes tops, buddy – I promise."

Brac curled up his lip as he reluctantly turned to obey, "No you don't." He brushed past Alec, "Not ever."

Alec kicked himself inwardly as he watched his teenage son stomp the yard back to the Lexus. The kid was pissed off – and he had a right to be…_for once_. Alec turned back to Tarrant with a pouty scowl.

"Kids, eh?" The sherriff sneered as he ruffled the pages of his mag, "What possessed ya to bring your son along for the ride, 494?"

"My _partner_," Alec stated coolly, "I gotta warn you, Sherriff, is at this moment in time a hormonal genetic miracle with a lotta attitude who, I can tell you from experience, packs a nasty right hook. So I wouldn't piss him off if I were you."

Tarrant cackled and shook his head, "Well I'll be." He laughed up at Alec, "Smart-Alec McDowell makin' babies with Sandeman's dream-queen." His eyes narrowed, "Wouldn't wanna be at any McDowell family reunions for the life o' me. Now what exactly is it that you're wantin', Daddy Day Care? Cuz I got rounds to be makin' in a couple o' minutes."

Alec smiled tightly and reached into his jacket, producing the snapshots of Southview's five abductees. "Heard you're well acquainted with Casey Trendon." He separated two of the slips from the pile and held them out to Tarrant, "She and Clarissa Sheldon were apparently last seen at your place before they vanished."

Tarrant raised his eyebrows as he accepted the papers from Alec with a dubious frown, "You're right about that, McDowell." He eyed the sheaves carelessly, "The girls are my godchildren – every Friday afternoon we knock back appletini's and read the Psalms."

Alec's lips twisted ironically. He'd never been much of a believer, but it was men like Tarrant that made Alec feel – if there was a God – mighty sorry for Him.

"So they got off safely home then? Didn't say anythin' about goin' for a little teenage-scare tour o' Southview Manor?" Alec sniffed and swung his pocketed hands to and fro restlessly.

Tarrant raised an eyebrow, "Now why would any self-respectin' Christian girls go traipsin' round a place after it's been boarded up as haunted?"

Alec shrugged caustically, "You tell me, Tarrant – you're the one who took'em on a joyridin' tour o' the grounds." He raised his eyebrows fleetingly and waited for a response.

Tarrant stared hard at him for a moment before he obliged him, "Now just where are you gettin' your information from, son? Cuz it sounds like you've been havin' words with our apparently mutual acquaintance Paddock Hurst."

Alec's shoulders rose and then fell with his eyebrows, "Ah a man can't reveal his sources – you of all people should know that, _Sherriff_."

The subtle undercurrent of distrust in Alec's voice made Tarrant's bushy eyebrows plummet, "Let's get somethin' real straight between the two of us, McDowell…"

"If it's all the same to you, Sherriff, I'd rather pass on that one." Alec responded cockily, but the man continued in the same vein.

"I don't give galdarn hoot who sent you here to sniff around in our affairs. There's only one arm o' law in Southview and that's yours truly – so I suggest you and yours take a hike 'fore me and mine run your asses outta town – you got that, Sparky?"

Alec raised an eyebrow, "It's gonna take more then a little threatening to get me off your back, Tarrant. Whatever you're not tellin' me is gonna come out in open soon enough, one way or another."

Tarrant scowled, "I doubt it." His hand strayed to the gun in his belt holster, "You just git on out o' here, boy – and best be watchin' your back while you do it as well. Somethin' might just creep op on ya when you're least expecting it."

Alec grinned, "I'm always expecting it, Sherriff." He tipped his head at the man, "Thanks for the chat, neighbor."

"With all due respect, Mr. Secretary, I have to ask you just how reliable you deem your sources to be."

Max was struggling to retain a sense of dignified calm as she sat in front of the digital image of Frank Johnson, the Secretary of Defense for the United States of America.

The wiry, gaunt-faced man may as well have been a bartender at Crash for all Max cared. The issue at hand was the fact that Johnson had just indirectly charged the International Transgenic Union with tax fraud…not evasion, fraud. He'd made certain to use that particular word.

It was a serious accusation – especially due to the shaky political status of the peace agreement between the government and the ITU at that precise moment in history. Amiable conventions were already at a stand-still and the government seemed intent on goading the union into a full-on war.

"Mrs. McDowell, I understand your concerns…"

"It's Guevara." Max couldn't help herself – the reaction was habitual. "Miss Guevara."

Johnson raised his eyebrows and sent a ripple of lines through his forehead, "I apologize. Your file read that…"

"Alec and I aren't officially married for legal reasons." Max resisted the urge to scowl – she hated explaining the intricacy of transgenic affairs to Ordinaries. They really just didn't understand, even when Max put it into normal terminology. "But we've been partners for fourteen years now and according to laws of state, we're a conjugal pair."

"I see." Johnson clearly _didn't_ see – he was merely keen to press ahead with the issue at hand, and Max was more then happy to oblige him. "_Miss Guevara_, you do realize that we have a fool-proof system of cogs and bolts within our information network, and the _reliability_ of our _sources_ will not be called into question. I hope you understand."

"I'm not suggesting you've been conned, Mr. Secretary." Max responded carefully, _I'm just saying that you're a complete whack-head who's been manipulated by Ames White on more then one occasion!_

"All I'm asking is that you give the ITU a fair amount of time to investigate your claims and come up with a conclusion which I believe will satisfy us all."

Johnson titled his head and stared at Max hard for a minute before responding, "Perhaps you're not aware of the full picture regarding the delicacy of ITU's political position, _Miss_ Guevara. I'm not certain that your _partner_ has made it clear to you just how shaky things are looking for your union at the moment – worldwide, the complaints have been pouring in since the moment transgenics became citizens of mankind…riots, strikes, protests, petitions. You name it, we've had it!"

"I'm _fully_ aware!" Max snapped, and Johnson continued in the same vein, oblivious to her response…and increasing anger.

"We've had reports of transgenic crime rates soaring over recent months…"

_Recent months…oh yeah, great gauge there, Johnson,_ Max thought sourly. The past five months had been filled with an excessive amount of garbage for just about every living creature on the planet, it seemed.

"Murders in Detroit, San Diego, California, Austin, New Orleans – all transgenic and all fresh." Johnson was grinding an axe by now and seemed almost gleeful at proclaiming the news, "America's growing tired of accommodating a race of dangerous genetic creations, Mrs. McDowell – to be frank, this allegation of tax fraud on the union's part is just the icing on the cake."

"Well we agree on one point at least." Max murmured, feeling her nails dig into the palm of her hand as her fist clenched so tightly it shook. "Look, Mr Secretary, I understand your concern and the urgency of this matter. All the same, I have to ask you for time to present a case of defense."

"I cannot give that authorization, Mrs. McDowell."

"Then as _citizens of the United States_, the ITU _demand_ the right to seek legal advice before responding to any further accusations." Max threw out stubbornly. She leant over and terminated the online conference with a tap of her mouse. If Johnson wanted to be a bitch about this, it was fine by her. Two could play that game, and Max was a heck of a lot better at it then Frank Johnson.

"See this is why you should never promise!" Brac stated bluntly as Alec slid into the driver's seat and shut the door behind him. "That was _seven_ minutes, 'tops'."

Alec ignored the provocation and squinted at the rigid form of Tarrant observing their exit from his patio. "Hey, I want you to stick close to me for a while, alright?"

Brac scoffed as they pulled out onto the road, "Well then maybe you should quit orderin' me to do the opposite!"

Alec shook his head, "I mean it, Brac. Whatever Tarrant's hiding is somethin' big enough for him to rustle up the balls to outright threaten me with a bullet in the back. I got a feelin' he's gonna try and pull a fast one on me and the last thing I want is you gettin' caught in the crossfire."

Brac shrugged carelessly, "And yet you're telling me to stick close to you. Smart, Dad - real ace…"

"Look Tarrant _knows_ you're my son and he's already been tryin' to use that to get under my skin, alright?" Alec cut the boy off sharply as the Lexus swerved down the road to Rad's Motel. "Until I know what that redneck's got up his sleeve, I'm sure as hell not lettin' his seedy mitts within a hundred yards o' you if I'm not around."

"Could be a little late for heroics, Dad." Brac quipped distractedly, and Alec narrowed his glittering green eyes at the two police cars sitting prominently outside of Motel Rad. Their drivers – a couple of broad-backed, middle-aged officers sporting flap-hats and ranger jackets – were eyeing the arrival of Alec's Lexus with a vindictive gleam in their eyes as they rested their hands on their hips… casually flashing their holster pistols in the process.

"What do you think they want?" Brac squinted through the setting sun which had suddenly broken cover at the officers as Alec slowed the car to a halt.

"I got a couple of ideas." His father's pointed tone made the boy roll his eyes.

"I _seriously_ doubt that…"

"Yeah well, all the same, Brac, I'm not takin' any chances." Alec killed the engine, eyes never leaving the officers who were now approaching their car. "I want you to take the car and park her 'round the back. The second you're in, make for the back door and hole up in the room till I come back." He reached into his jacket and handed Brac two sets of keys.

Brac scrunched up his nose disbelievingly, "You're lettin' me…?"

"It's a one-timer, buddy. Don't get any ideas for the future." Alec raised his eyebrows and grabbed Brac's sleeve as he exited the car. "Hey! Be careful with her – any marks I find, you're gonna spend the next twenty Sundays fixin' her up till she gleams."

Brac smiled acidly, "Don't worry, Dad – I been told I drive like Mom."

"Exactly." Alec muttered tersely as he shut the door and patted the hood, stalking away from the car as Brac rolled it out. The officers were only a few feet away now.

"Agent McDowell?" One of them – the older one, Alec noted – went in for the kill, strategically coming around the X5's front to position himself between the transgenic and his retreating vehicle.

The other officer was striding purposefully towards the Lexus in a way that Alec didn't like at all.

Well fine. Two could play that game.

"What can I do for you, officer?" Alec queried cautiously, shifting his footing into a subtle yet firm stance around the man's side.

The officer was dancing with him, twisting to keep a full frontal on the X5. "Just here to ask a couple o' questions about your boy over there."

Alec nodded with a raise of his eyebrows, "Brac? He's uh five foot eight, an Aries, got a penchant for steak and Margueritas…oh but don't worry, any girl's he's datin', he'll take'em out somewhere real fine for caviar and champagne."

"I'm not here to…"

"Or orange juice if uh your daughter ain't drinkin'. Personally I think it's healthy for kids to have a lil' of the good stuff when they're younger so they don't…"

"Agent McDowell, are you aware that your son is bein' charged with breakin' and enterin', three counts o' vandalism, two auto thefts and drunk and disorderly conduct?" The cop placed his hands on his hips and scowled satisfactorily at Alec.

"That so?" Alec's eyes flicked warily to his left. The second officer had his hand on the roof of the Lexus and was leaning in on Brac – who happened to be throwing his father a questioning glance which the latter understood all too well.

Alec shook his head ever so slightly, and Brac rolled his eyes before twisting the keys and silencing the purring engine.

"I gotta ask where you get your info, officer." Alec stated as casually as he possibly could under the circumstances. "You maybe wanna be a lil' less vague?"

The officer cracked a toothy grin and obliged him, "Where should I start?"

Alec sniffed and frowned as he watched Brac step out of the car and tuck his hands into his pockets as the second officer read off something from a dubious-looking paper.

"Why don't we begin at the bit where your partner gets the nerve to read my son his rights before an official arrest has been conducted?" Alec turned to eye the officer coldly, and the man shrugged frostily in response.

"Maybe you're not understandin' me here, son. This _is_ an official arrest. We're gonna haul your boy down to the station and keep him in custody till he gets the chance to explain hisself before a judge."

"Well I could probably save you the trip, Officer." Alec stated narrowly, "See the breaking and entering count, that was…"

"I'm refferin' to an eyewitness account o' him crawling in through a window at two in the morning!" The beefy police officer interjected sharply, and Alec nodded.

"It was _one_ in the morning," Alec informed him sharply, "and he didn't break nothin'. As for the entering part, I happen to have pulled him in – and bein' the one who was rentin' the room, I figure that was alright."

"Well what you _don't_ seem to _figure_ is that in Southview, we got laws o' etiquette, and when you break'em, we can get mighty mean all of a sudden." The cop stated gutturally, and Alec scoffed.

"Apparently so. But laws of etiquette don't exactly tie in with laws of state – now about the counts of vandalism…how many did you say again?"

"Three." The officer spat, "Kid scuffed the piping on Rad's wall, tore up half of the Trendon's front lawn and knocked down a section of their picket fence with a stolen Ford Focus – which brings me to my next charge; auto theft"

Alec sighed through his nose and pursed his lips as the officer continued.

"We found the Ford hidden in the bushes just off the road into Southview's main residential area. The wires had been messed with – license plate and registration number chalked the ownership up to a Simon Herring from Sector 2. And the second vehicle we ID as jacked by your son was a motorcycle…"

No sooner had the words escaped the officer's lips then Alec interrupted abruptly.

"Ninja 650, ebony-maroon, vintage model?"

"That's the one." The officer affirmed, and then squinted at the tightness of Alec's lips, "It was found on its side with a totaled nose and smoking belly – the fingerprints on its handles matched the ones your son left on the wheel of the Ford."

"Course they did." Alec growled between grit teeth as he threw his son a glare which plainly screamed 'you are so fucking dead'.

"Now about the count of drunk and disorderly behavior," The officer was now leaving off bothering to hide his malevolent pleasure at the discomfort he was obviously causing Alec. "Boy was seen stumblin' outta the Tarrant's bushes after crashing the stolen Ford. Maive Tarrant says he knocked over three o' her garbage cans and apparently kicked one of her cats in the ribs with a steel-toed boot."

Alec winced at the statement. Brac had always hated cats – his feline DNA seemed to turn him into a domineering alpha male whenever one of the animals came prowling around.

"Now Officer, are you so certain Brac was drunk? I mean, if he'd come fresh out of a car crash, he was most likely just disorientated…"

"I don't give a rat's ass _what_ he was – and speakin' from one parent to another here, Agent McDowell," The officer planted his hands on his pudgy hips, "we're all God-fearin' folks here in Southview who rear our children by the Good Book's morals on sparin' the rod and spoilin' the child…"

"Yeah well the next time I gotta deal with a genetically-empowered killing machine pumped full o' raging adolescent hormones who's gotta live with the racial discrimination and prejudice your sort o' 'God-fearin' kind shove in his face 24-7," Alec held the man's gaze acidly, "I'll definitely take _your_ advice and bend him over my knee."

The X5, of course, had meant the caustic statement as nothing more then a jab at the bastard's incompetence. But he was dangerously close to a seething mass of temper after he had had to spend 120 minutes of his precious remaining daylight hours down at the police station sorting out Brac's bail and paperwork, giving evidence, answering a butt-load of questions – and the clincher of said wasted hours; downing coffee which tasted like cat piss while pouring over snapshots of his totaled Ninja bike.

Yeah. Alec's tightly-clenched jaw and smoldering silence lasted about the five seconds it took him to lock up the room and place his wallet and keys on the desk. Then the lid blew.

Unwisely, Brac preempted the outburst.

"Not that it makes any difference, but I was shoved off the curb by a road-hog in a bitch of a Nissan…"

"So that explains how you managed to totally fry the thing's engine?" Alec's voice and expression deadpanned as he turned to his son. "C'mon, Brac, you're pissin' on my intelligence here!"

"It was the crunch on the brakes that worked the circuits over…" Brac yelled in his defense, and Alec shook his head, clearly furious that, on top of everything else, his kid was now telling him an outright lie…one of the high-rankers on Alec's list of parental piss-offs.

"You were doin' 180 on the highway and you pushed it too fast on a swerve! That thing's up for repairs – I had Fixit do a sweep and the engine's been overheatin' for about a month now!" Alec raised his eyebrows matter-of-factly, "Don't fucking lie to me, Brac."

After a moment in thought, he sighed and rubbed at his face wearily.

Brac narrowed his eyes as Alec stalked over to the table in the corner of the room, pulling out a chair and placing in it the centre of the motel room. He felt a sliver of doom course down his spine as Alec unbuckled his belt and pulled it out, looping it over and nodding at his son.

"Alright, come on – drop trou."

Brac gasped despite his rage, "You can't be fucking serious!"

"As serious as I was when I warned you I was gonna have to do this if you pulled another stupid, dangerous stunt. It's your own freaking fault, so get a grip on that chair and drop your pants, because I _really_ don't wanna have to do it for you!" Alec said calmly with a raise of his eyebrows.

"Look if you think I'm just gonna keel over and let you _whip_ me," Brac yelled angrily, "you can kiss my ass!"

"Only thing gonna be kissin' your ass is my belt, Brac." Alec responded firmly as he stared his son down, "It's down to you – you either get thirty through the shorts or eighteen on the skin!"

Brac winced deeply at the proclaimed numbers. He eyed the belt in his father's fist and cringed visibly, unable to help himself. Had Alec intentionally worn _that_ belt – the thin, leather one which had always managed to sting much worse then the thick, bulky belts?

Not likely. Alec rarely spanked his children at all, and even then, the belt had only made a grand total of five appearances. The X5 hated spanking his kids and usually only resorted to it when they went all-out on the crowning gem: putting themselves or their family in danger.

"Come _on_, Dad!"

"_You_ come on, Brac!" Alec snapped, his solemn, resigned veneer cracking for a moment to reveal the angst just beneath the surface, "I mean, you're already forcin' me to belt you here! Now I gotta drop your trousers for you too? Gimme a break, for fuck's sake!"

Brac and Nyx – Brac especially, being older – were so seldom spanked that by the time one was in order, it was undeniably deserved and guaranteed to be an experience they would _not_ be forgetting anytime soon.

_That's sort of a given when your parents have three times the strength of an Ordinary their build. _

Brac would much rather have slugged it out with Alec on the mat and taken his well-earned beating like a man. The belting was going to be just as painful and twice as humiliating. But Brac was certain Alec knew that…

_Goddamned fucking bastard_, He cleared his throat and tramped purposefully to the chair Alec had placed out. Brac raised an eyebrow stonily as he looked his father dead in the eye, "How many do you think you can mete out through the jeans, tough-guy?"

Alec held his gaze for a moment before he snapped into action, grabbing Brac's wrists and yanking them downwards to rest on the arc of the chair. Brac scowled mordantly but gripped the edge of the low wooden chair with a face full of steel.

"Dude, you have five seconds to get those trousers down your legs or the whole kit's comin' off – you understand me?" Alec stated flatly as he moved to stand behind his son's hunched-over frame and readied the dreaded belt.

Brac growled in annoyance but followed through with Alec's demand. The teenager tried to control the pulsing throb of his heartbeat and did his best to retreat into the stony hovel in which he spent the majority of his time.

A hissing snap brought Brac sharply to reality as he felt the full sting of Alec's belt. His entire body jolted forward from the sheer force of the blow but he gripped the chair rim tighter and took a deep, shuddering breath.

When a second lash followed with a set of triplets on its heels, however, the sting was already beginning to crash against Brac's defenses with a merciless force. He shut his eyes tightly to ward off the tears of pain that his bodily mechanisms were forcing out and hissed under his breath at another swat of the belt.

"Jesus!"

Another three strikes of the belt and Brac was clutching the chair and dropping his head between his arms to conceal the tears coursing down his squinting face. "Ahh…fuck!"

"You had this comin' to you, kid." Alec's voice sounded stern and unrelenting as he rained another blow across his son's boxer shorts, "And for your own damn sake I'm hopin' you know why! _Why_ am I hiding you, Brac?"

"Because you're a fucking dick!" Brac yelled between open sobs as his sit spot smoldered with thunderous pain.

"Oh _I'm_ the fucking dick, Brac, _me_?" Alec responded with a harsher tone and harsher thrashes then before, causing his son to squirm in anguish at both. "_You_ ran away," Alec enunciated each of the offending transgressions with a painful lash, "you _attacked_ your mother, you _stole_ my Ninja, you _left_ TC, you _hotwired_ a car, you got _drunk_, you took _drugs_, you got a _tattoo_, you blew _cover_ on my case and you got yourself _arrested_! How the _hell_ does that make _me_ the _dick_?"

"Enough!" Brac's yell was a mixture of an angry demand and a desperate plea between choked cries as his shoulders shuddered and his legs threatened to cave, "I can't do this anymore!"

"Sorry, bud, we're not finished here!" Alec paused momentarily to allow Brac a brief moment to recover. He reached over his son, taking his hands off the chair rail and placing them on the seat. Brac let out a deep-throated sob as he felt the acid flame in his backside, but he clenched his fists into tighter balls and ground his knuckles into the seat.

"God, Dad, _please_…"

"You've got seven left to go!" Alec's warning rang with more then just a hint of reassurance as he planted a firm hand on the small of his son's back and began to lay into him with the belt once more.

Brac screamed as Alec's belt made contact with his burning, barely-protected skin once more. He couldn't help himself. The pain had been unbearable and had somehow gotten worse.

"Stop it, Dad, _enough_! I can't…_ahh_…I can't take anymo…_oh God_! I'm sorry, alright, I'm _sorr_…" Brac couldn't speak anymore. His sobs were coming on too strong and were coupled with the sharp yell that left his lips with every heavy-handed stroke of Alec's belt.

Those final seven lashes were the worst moment of hell that Brac had ever undergone. He cursed himself for crying like a little boy and begging for his Dad to stop, but he couldn't help the desperate pleading.

Just when Brac was sure that he would keel and faint from the stinging burn of his rear, the swatting stopped. He sank to his knees, burying his head in his hands and sobbing. His ass felt like it was literally on fire and he no longer cared if Alec knew it.

A strong hand rubbed gently across Brac's upper back and he flinched but didn't pull away from Alec as his dad knelt down beside him and rested his forehead against the side of his son's bowed head.

"Don't you _ever_ make me do that to you again, kid." Alec's voice was low, raspy, and he sounded as though he was fighting off tears, "Brac, _please_ – you don't think I felt every single one o' those? C'mon, kid, you have to _promise_ me that's the last time I'm _ever_ gonna have to belt you, okay?"

Brac kept his eyes tightly shut and his head still clasped in his hands but he nodded briefly. Alec knew better then to press him further and merely continued to rub comforting circles on his son's shuddering back as the boy fought to regain control of himself.

Eventually, Brac's sobs subsided and he rubbed at his face as Alec quietly planted a kiss on his scruffy, dark blonde hair.

"Okay whoa, _no_ kissing!"

"What? C'mon…"

"No Dad, I am _not_ five, okay?" Brac's head shot up to glare at his dad through red, puffy eyes that glistened with tears and with fire, "I can take a licking without you havin' to kiss it better!"

"That's totally unfair!" Alec grouched as he stood up and took the hand that Brac was extending to him, helping the still shaking boy to his feet, "I can thrash you but I'm not allowed to kiss you?"

"No. Deal with it." Brac was still sniffing through his obstinacy as he pulled up his jeans and then gasped despite himself, "_Fuck_!"

"Easy, Tiger." Alec held his elbow for support as the boy nearly swooned from the pain of the tight jeans hiking up to his waist, prompting a worried frown from Alec. Brac's pain threshold wasn't a record-holder, but he had handled a heck of a lot more then the thirty bitches Alec had dished out before and his recovery pace was every bit as good as his parents'.

"You gonna be okay?"

"I'm fine – just light-headed." Brac stated flatly as he ran his hands through his hair and under his eyes to remove any evidence of tears, "Didn't wanna touch that crap lunch they gave me back at the station."

Alec laughed despite himself as he shook his head, "Yeah I hear you on that one, pal. Let's get some grub – what d'you want? Steakhouse or Pizza Perfect?"

"I don't give a hoot." Brac rolled his eyes, "Just so long as you order in, cuz as funny as you find it, I'm not gonna be able to sit anytime soon!"

"Hey!" Alec said sharply, dipping his head to meet Brac's eyes and hold them, "I do _not_ find _any_ of this amusing – not your behavior, not the fact I had to belt you for it, and not that you're in pain right now. Alright, Brac?"

Brac sighed in frustration, eyebrows furrowed as he turned to glance out of the window at the abandoned Manor house across from their Motel.

"Tarrant's in with whoever's squatting that house." He stated quietly after a moment, and Alec pursed his lips at the attempt to change the subject. He'd allow it – for now.

"How do you figure?"

Brac continued to avert his eyes from Alec's green ones, "The Trendon's think they were real sharp for catchin' out an X-series…"

_You're not an X-series, Brac._ Alec wanted to scream out the words, and only his strong paternal instincts kept them from bursting from his consciousness._ You're a thirteen year-old kid born to a messed-up pair of ex-soldiers who are fightin' tooth and nail to protect you and your sister from suffering the consequences of the things that Manticore made us do._

"But they managed to miss me having a little rifle through their daughter's bedroom that same evening." Brac was continuing, eyes glued suspiciously to the Manor house. "I found a crap load of photos with her and this Clarissa girl, and happily sandwiched 'tween the two of'em in ninety percent of the pictures was guess who?"

Alec nodded warily, "Tarrant, by any chance?"

Brac raised his eyebrows, "The one and only." He turned to hold his father's gaze. "I bagged her journal and there's some real incriminating stuff about this sheriff guy in those pages." Brac held up a small, thick, spiral-bound book with a dubious raise of his eyebrows. "What?"

"You know, I'm not entirely sure how I'm meant to be feelin' bout you sneakin' into a house and making off with some girl's private diary." Alec knew he was being hypocritical as he perused the mishmash pages of Casey Trendon's obese journal. Fresh memories of Asha's little black book were dancing stridently in the corner of his mind.

"Well it's not like she's gonna be missing the thing anytime soon!" Brac defended himself from where he was squinting at a post-it clipped to the back of the diary. "Figured I'd slip it back before I busted her out and she'd be none the wiser for it!"

"Uh huh." Alec mumbled judiciously, "Speakin' of which, Brac, I've been meaning to ask – just what exactly was your grand scheme for Southview in the first place?" He leafed through a page and glanced up at his son with a purse of his lips, "Cuz you got me shitting myself here at the possibility that you were actually considering takin' on whatever bitches are holed up in that building on your own."

Brac laughed sharply for a moment before he looked down and caught sight of the troubled expression on his father's face. He smothered the snicker dutifully and flicked his tongue over his lips.

"What if I was?"

Alec's face remained set. "Guess I thought Maxie and I had raised you kids to be a heck of a lot smarter then we were at your age."

He sounded pained, aggrieved. It was the one tone of voice that got Brac and Nyx every single time. They hated seeing Alec disappointed even more then they did feeling the full edge of his wrath.

"Maybe I coulda pulled it off." Brac said quietly, his eyes downcast and fingertips drumming softly on the table in front of him. Suddenly his eyes lashed to catch Alec's and hold them desperately, "Maybe then you would've thought of me as more then just your screw-up of a little boy."

Alec's eyes closed briefly at the anguished statement, "Is that what this is all about, Brac? You really think that's how I see you and you're tryin' to change that…"

"I'm trying to change the way I see _myself_!" Brac's teeth closed tightly and he slammed his fist down on the table top for emphasis, anger – and just a hint of moisture – glistening in his eyes, "But I figured if I could make my Dad's eyes say 'I'm proud of you' like they used to instead o' looking at me like I'm just another one of the hundreds of transgenic problem cases he has to deal with every day…that would be a nice little add-on!"

Alec's eyes lowered, hiding underneath his long eyelashes. He remained silent for just a moment too long. Brac looked away with a tight-lipped expression before turning his attention back to the post-it in his hand.

"She's got what seems like a barcode number written out on this piece of paper. Starts with X6 and goes on to finish in the digits 654. Has the word 'Kell' scribbled underneath it…I figure that's a name and this is one of our inside peeps…"

"Brac, put the paper down, buddy." Alec sighed and rubbed his forehead. "C'mon, talk to me. What's really been goin' on inside that head of yours?"

Brac exhaled sharply as he set the post-it on the table in front of him. "I don't even know anymore, Dad."

Alec shook his head, "Well you gotta let me know what's hurting so I can make it alright again. That's how it's always been with us, buddy."

Brac scoffed softly, "Dad, I'm not seven anymore. This isn't just a cut knee or soccer lose-blues."

"Brac…"

"It's not something you can just 'make better' like you did when I was little, alright?" The boy yelled, moving away from where he had been standing near the table.

"Whoa, whoa!" Alec stated, reaching over and grabbing hold of his son's arm tightly, "Hold up there, Brac – we're not movin' on this case until I know what it is you're not tellin' me!"

Brac's nostrils flared, "Would you quit being so petty, Dad? There are _lives_ on the line here…"

"And not a single one of them is more important to me then my own son!" Alec yelled sternly, and Brac moved to yank his arm away from his father's firm grip. He did so with such force that the sleeve on his sweater tore at the elbow, and he staggered back with a pale fear in his eyes as he pressed the inside of his arm against his stomach.

It was too late. Alec's sharp eyes had already noted what his son had been desperately hiding from him for the entirety of their time in Southview.

Brac's veins were jutting out of his arm with an unnatural bulge, and deep, scabbed-over slashes at entrance points to the arteries ran in a line up his arm and disappeared under the remains of his sweater sleeve.

"Jesus Christ!" Alec was standing by now, his eyes filled with horror as he took in the sight before him. "Brac, what the hell happened to you?"

"I don't wanna goddamn remember!" Brac screamed, a darkness clouding over his glittering eyes, "You wanna know what's eatin' me up, Dad? It's their faces looming over me, it's their dark eyes and their wide smiles and their mouths full of blood- my blood! You wanna see what's doin' my head in, well have a look at this!" He yanked up his other sleeve to reveal a twin set of injuries just as fresh and multiple as the ones on his other arm.

"They fucking cut me open and drank my fucking blood, sucked it outta me with tubes and thanked me for makin' them strong!" Brac spread his arms helplessly, furiously – brokenly. "They said I was the offspring of a perfect pair of X's, the son of 452 – my blood was a combination of Sandeman's chosen one mixed with the Alpha male of transgenics! They said I was destined to be their savior, that my blood would make them strong – that I was a replica of Ben and that he would have led them to glory if he had lived!"

Brac pulled his sweater over his head and threw it on the ground as he spoke, baring a torso pale from loss of blood and riddled with blue veins that had previously been invisible – each one bearing a scab from a vicious insertion. "Look at me!" Brac screamed, "Look at what they fucking did to me! How the fuck are you supposed to _make me alright again_, Dad?!"

Alec swooned and gripped the edge of the table for support. He felt sick to his stomach – and angry beyond belief.

"Brac, why the hell didn't you tell me?"

Brac scoffed, his green eyes glazing over with the steely contempt that mirrored Ben's, "Oh yeah, because X5 – 494, the transgenic sovereign lord, is gonna ride in on a White Charger and right all my freaking wrongs!"

"Actually I work better on a Ninja, and yeah that just about sums it up!" Alec retorted scathingly, eyes narrowed and jaw set in an expression of outrage and hurt, "I'm not gettin' this, Brac – I have _never_ betrayed your trust and I have _never_ shied away from helpin' out when you were in _any_ kind of trouble! When exactly did I become the sort of person that you'd lie to? And I mean it, I want a real answer!"

"Was my previous one not good enough for you, your majesty?"

"Damn it, Brac, do you not realize how much shit you're in? You do _not_ keep those kinda secrets from me and you _absolutely_ do _not_ lie to me about it! That kind of information belongs with _me_ or I can't do my job and keep you safe!"

"I don't _need_ you to 'keep me safe'!" Brac screamed, jabbing a finger at Alec, "Why didn't you fucking Manticorians raise us like soldiers? That's who we are, that's who we're made to be, that's what we are inside!"

Alec flinched, "That's bullshit…"

"Is it? Let me ask you somethin' - who the fuck gave your generation the right to deny mine our only shot at making a name for ourselves in this world, of being more then just objects of ridicule and hatred?" He kicked over a nearby chair with the full force of his transgenic strength, sending it smashing into a wall, "We should have been soldiers! We should have had the chance to make them respect and fear us the way they do with you…"

"Brac!" Alec barked in a tone he rarely used with his children (though up till recently he'd found himself employing it with his son far too often for his liking). Brac stiffened at the voice but his eyes still gleamed furiously at his dad as Alec pushed off from the table and began to pace the room.

"Enough! Goddamn it, I can't even believe I'm hearing this from you!" Alec spread his arms in shocked incredulity, "I mean, are you listening to yourself? Do you have any idea what you're blamin' us for here? That we didn't raise you to be soldiers, that Max didn't train Nyxie to be killin' in cold blood – that I didn't stick a gun in your hand and send you to hunt down and take out a deathrower? I mean, _fuck_!" He stamped out a foot and then placed his hands on his hips, turning his head away and rubbing his jaw in the classic pose he adopted when somebody had seriously pissed him off and he was trying to get his head around it.

Brac stood, bristling with silent fury as he waited for Alec to pass judgment. _Come on, Dad – do it. All I need is one final straw…then I can crack_.

_Then I can strike. _

Alec sighed through his nose and closed his eyes with a raise of his brows.

"Just get your stuff together. We're skipping town tonight."

Brac narrowed his eyes and felt his bottom lip hang open slightly. This wasn't happening. The one time that Brac was banking on – _counting_ on – his dad to pour fire and brimstone down on his son's head, Alec was taking the merciful route.

Brac's jaw clenched. This was _not_ going to happen.

"What the hell? No! No, you can't just walk away from…"

"Brac, I need you to calm down before you keel over and faint!" Alec responded evenly, "I'm amazed you're still up and around with the amount it looks like they bled you. You're in no condition to be pitching a fit, kid – I'm not feedin' your goddamn fire."

If Brac had ever lost sight of the fact that both Alec and Max could read their children like open books, he had now been dully reminded…and humbled - by the steadfast consistency of his dad's concern for his welfare.

Brac's eyes lowered to the ground submissively. "Alright."

Alec's taut muscles didn't relax however – the man didn't understand why his soldier's reflexes weren't allowing him the luxury of displaying to his son the fact that he accepted Brac's compliance.

Alec's paternal instincts were informing him in no uncertain terms that everything was not _alright_. His Manticore training was screaming at him to be prepared for an assault.

_C'mon, Alec - get ahold o' yourself before your kid does somethin' you'll both regret!_ Alec blinked hard several times in an effort to regain his composure. Brac had moved and was pulling his sweater over his head, quiet sniffs erupting from under the material betraying the fact that he seemed to be crying.

Alec wanted to cross the distance between them and envelop his boy in a hug – but something was still keeping him glued rigidly to the spot and his stomach was tightening the way it did shortly before trouble poured down on his head.

Brac bent down to pick up his backpack. That was when it hit. The sound of glass shattering pierced both Alec and Brac's eardrums like the stab of a hundred knives as the window splintered in and showered the two in a hail of broken shards.

Alec's reflexes had him on his feet instantly and leaping towards his son with every intention of shielding Brac from whoever had kicked their window in.

A steel boot plowing into his stomach and a twin of the same kind connecting sharply with his head had Alec flying backwards and slamming into a pile of broken glass shortly afterwards.

Alec's head spun from the vicious onslaught and his vision was dancing with staccato yellow lights as he fought to regain control of himself.

"Brac!" At least Alec's voice was still in working order. The X5's heart raced as he made out a blurry pair of tall, well-built young men laying into Brac with a ruthless barrage of kicks and punches. It was only moments before the teenager lay motionless and was thrown across the shoulders of one of the intruders.

"No!" Alec struggled to his feet, not even feeling the blaring pain screaming from his stomach and head as he barreled full-speed towards the men, who were maneuvering their way through the broken window frame.

"Yes!" One of them had turned to face Alec before the injured transgenic even saw it coming, and latched onto his outstretched arm, flipping Alec onto his back and delivering a brutal slam-kick to the X5's head.

Alec's senses failed him, and the last words he remembered hearing before unconsciousness overtook were "He is special…the one…"

Damn right Brac was special. He was Alec and Max's only son.

To Be Continued


End file.
